.  3 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE. 


After  Faed. 


SHAKESPEARE'S 


COMEDY   OF 


THE  MERCHANT  OF"  VENICE 


.  EDITED,   WITH   NOTES 

BY 
WILLIAM   J.    ROLFE,   Lirr.D. 

FORMERLY  HEAD  MASTER  OF  THE  HIGH  SCHOOL 
CAMBRIDGE,   MASS. 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW  YORK  •:•  CINCINNATI  •:•  CHICAGO 

AMERICAN    BOOK    COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  1870,  1883,  AND  1898,  BY 
HARPER  &  BROTHERS. 

COPYRIGHT,  1903,  BY 
WILLIAM  J    ROLFE. 

COPYRIGHT,  1911,  BY 
JOHN  C.   ROLFE. 


MERCHANT  OF  VENICE. 
K.  P.  21 


Co 

Horace  l&otoartr  jfurness 

"  THE   DEAREST  FRIEND  TO   ME,   THE   KINDEST  MAN, 

THE  BEST-CONDITION'D  AND  UNWEARIED  SPIRIT 

IN  DOING  COURTESIES  " 

THIS  BOOK  AND   THE   EDITION   OF   SHAKESPEARE 

WHICH   IT   INTRODUCES 
ARE   GRATEFULLY   AND   AFFECTIONATELY 

DEDICATED 

W.  J.  R. 


PREFACE 

MY  edition  of  The  Merchant  of  Venice  was  first  pub- 
lished in  1870.  It  was  the  initial  volume  of  the  com- 
plete'edition  of  Shakespeare's  plays  and  poems,  in  forty 
volumes,  which  was  finished  in  1883. 

As  I  stated  in  the  original  preface,  the  book  was 
planned  and  nearly  completed  more  than  three  years 
earlier,  but  was  laid  aside  for  other  work  and  not  taken 
up  again  until  the  summer  .of  1870.  Meanwhile  the 
notes  had  been  used  with  classes  in  school  and  out  of 
school,  and  received  such  revision  as  was  suggested  by 
that  experience  and  by  further  study  of  Shakespeare. 

When  I  began  to  prepare  the  book,  Shakespeare  was 
just  coming  to  be  studied  in  the  secondary  schools. 
Only  a  few  annotated  editions  of  single  plays  had  been 
published  in  England,  and  none,  so  far  as  I  am  aware, 
in  this  country.  Helps  for  the  school  study  of  Shake- 
speare were  few  and  expensive.  The  Cowden-Clarke 
Concordance  cost  ten  or  twelve  dollars.  The  first  vol- 
ume of  Dr.  Furness's  "  New  Variorum  "  edition  (Romeo 
and  Juliet')  was  published  in  1871,  but  the  second  (Mac- 
beth,  the  first  of  the  plays  commonly  read  in  schools) 
not  until  1873.  Critical  commentaries  on  Shakespeare 
were,  as  a  rule,  to  be  had  only  in  costly  English  edi- 
tions. High  school  libraries  were  few  and  small,  and 
public  libraries,  except  in  the  larger  cities,  contained 
but  little  Shakespearian  literature.  Few  teachers  in 
secondary  schools  throughout  the  country  were  better 
equipped  than  I  was,  some  fifteen  years  earlier,  when 

7 


8  Preface 

the  only  Shakespeare  I  had  was  a  one-volume  edition 
without  notes,  and  my  pupils  had  to  use  such  editions 
as  they  found  at  home  or  among  their  friends. 

In  editing  this  play,  therefore,  it  was  my  aim,  as  I 
said  in  the  preface,  to  furnish  "  a  pure  text  and  the 
notes  needed  for  its  thorough  elucidation  and  illustra 
tion."  Having  in  mind  the  needs  of  the  teacher  as 
well  as  the  student,  I  preferred,  in  these  notes,  to  err,  if 
at  all,  on  the  side  of  fullness.  The  book  was  favourably 
received,  but  the  publishers  were  surprised,  as  I  was, 
when  the  demand  for  similar  editions  of  all  the  plays 
generally  read  in  schools  and  colleges  was  followed  by 
a  call  from  the  reading  public  for  the  rest  of  Shake- 
speare's works  in  the  same  form. 

The  changes  made  now  in  revising  the  book  have 
been  mainly  due  to  the  changes  that  have  taken  place 
in  the  educational  situation  during  the  past  thirty-five 
years.  For  instance,  I  have  omitted  the  greater  part 
of  the  notes  on  textual  variations.  This  play,  with  most 
of  the  others  read  in  schools,  is  now  among  the  twelve 
plays  that  Dr.  Furness  has  edited.  No  teacher  can 
afford  to  do  without  his  encyclopedic  volumes,  in  which 
all  the  readings  and  notes  of  the  early  editions  and  of 
the  standard  modern  editions  are  epitomized,  together 
tvvith  large  extracts  from  the  best  commentaries  and 
much  admirable  criticism  by  Dr.  Furness  himself.  The 
textual  readings,  however,  are  for  the  average  teacher 
the  least  important  part  of  the  material  in  that  monu- 
mental edition.  The  text  of  Shakespeare  is  now  virtu- 
.  ally  settled.  Many  emendations  have  been  proposed  in 
recent  years,  but  those  that  have  been  generally  ac- 
cepted could  be  counted  on  the  fingers  of  one  hand, 
with  possibly  a  finger  or  two  to  spare.  Scattered  cruces, 
due  to  the  corruption  of  the  earlier  editions,  still  re- 
main to  perplex  the  critics,  who  will  probably  quarrel 


Preface  9 

over  them  to  the  end  of  time  ;  and  to  some  of  these, 
as  illustrations  of  an  interesting  but  exasperating  class 
of  Shakespearian  problems,  I  make  brief  reference  in 
the  present  notes. 

I  have  also  omitted  most  of  the  "  Critical  Comments  " 
from  the  introduction,  as  the  books  from  which  they 
were  taken  are  now  readily  accessible  in  public  and 
school  libraries.  For  these  extracts  I  have  substituted 
familiar  comments  of  my  own,  and  have  added  more  of 
the  same  kind  in  the  Appendix.  A  concise  account  of 
Shakespeare's  metre  has  also  been  inserted  as  an  intro- 
duction to  the  notes. 

Minor  changes  have  been  made  throughout  the 
notes.  Some  have  been  abridged  or  condensed,  some 
have  been  expanded,  and  new  ones  have  been  added 
here  and  there.  In  very  few  instances,  however,  have 
I  found  it  necessary  to  make  any  radical  alterations,  as 
the  work  of  revision  has  been  going  on  ever  since  the 
book  was  published.  It  has  been  so  often  reprinted 
that  I  have  had  opportunities  every  year  —  sometimes 
several  times  in  a  year  —  for  making  the  slight  changes 
and  additions  that  seemed  to  be  necessary  or  desirable. 
In  1883,  when  line  numbers  were  first  inserted,  new 
plates  were  required,  and  the  introduction  and  notes 
were  thoroughly  revised.  More  than  five  pages  were 
added  to  the  introduction,  and  about  five  more  were 
afterwards  appended  to  the  notes. 

The  present  edition  is,  nevertheless,  substantially  a 
new  book,  and  many  teachers  will,  I  think,  prefer  it  to 
the  old  one.  Both  can  be  used,  without  serious  incon- 
venience, in  the  same  class  or  club. 

I  may  add  that,  in  the  revision,  I  have  not  been 
inclined  to  insert  the  "  Hints  for  Teachers  "  that  are  to 
be  found  in  some  good  school  editions.  The  teacher 
who  does  not  need  them  must  regard  them  as  an  imper- 


io  Freface 

tinence.  Those  who  do  need  them  are,  in  my  opinion, 
quite  as  likely  to  misuse  them  as  to  profit  by  them.  If 
they  are  made  full  enough  and  explicit  enough  to  be  of 
real  service  to  the  young  and  inexperienced  teacher, 
they  should  be  printed  in  a  separate  booklet,  like  my 
Elementary  Study  of  English,  which  was  prepared 
mainly  as  a  guide  to  the  use  of  certain  books  for 
younger  students.  I  intend  to  prepare  something  of 
the  kind  on  the  study  of  Shakespeare. 


CONTENTS 

PAGB 

THE  LIFE  AND  WORKS  OF  SHAKESPEARE    .       .        ,  13 

INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  MERCHANT  OF  VENICE    .       .        .21 

The  History  of  the  Play 21 

The  Sources  of  the  Plot 23 

Shakespeare  and  Italy 26 

THE  MERCHANT  OF  VENICE 35 

Act  I               37 

Act  II 56 

Act  III 84 

Act  IV no 

ActV      .  .129 

NOTES .....  143 

APPENDIX 207 

Comments  on  Some  of  the  Characters     ....  207 

The  Law  in  the  Trial  Scene 227 

The  Time-Analysis  of  the  Play 229 

List  of  Characters  in  the  Play          .        .        .        .        .  230 

INDEX  OF  WORDS  AND  PHRASES  EXPLAINED       .       .       .  233 

II 


MONUMENT  AT  STRATFORD 

12 


JOHN  SHAKESPEARE'S  HOUSE  IN  HENLEY  STREET 


THE    LIFE  AND   WORKS    OF 
SHAKESPEARE 


His  Life.  —  William  Shakespeare  was  born  at  Strat- 
ford-upon-Avon,  in  the  county  of  Warwick,  England,  in 
April,  1564.  He  was  baptized  on  the  26th  of  April 
(Old  Style)  ;  and,  as  it  was  a  common  practice  to  christen 
infants  when  three  days  old,  the  tradition  which  makes 
his  birthday  the  23d  (May  3,  as  dates  are  now  reckoned) 
is  generally  accepted.  His  father,  John  Shakespeare, 
who  had  been  a  farmer  in  a  neighbouring  village,  came 
to  Stratford  about  1553,  and  adopted  the  trade  of  a 
glover.  His  mother,  Mary  Arden,  belonged  to  a  younger 
branch  of  a  good  old  Warwickshire  family,  and  inherited 
a  considerable  estate  from  her  father.  John  Shake- 
speare was  evidently  shrewd,  energetic,  ambitious,  and 
public-spirited.  He  made  money,  and  was  popular  with 

13 


14- 


The   Life  and  Works  of 


his  fellow-townsmen.  After  passing  through  the  lowef 
grades  of  office,  he  was  elected  alderman,  and  in  1568 
became  high  bailiff  or  mayor. 


INNER  COURT  OF  THE  GRAMMAR  SCHOOL,  STRATFORD 

Of  a  family  of  four  sons  and  four  daughters,  William 
was  the  third  child,  but  the  eldest  son.  When  he  was 
seven  years  old,  he  was  doubtless  sent  to  the  Stratford 
grammar  school,  where  he  got  all  the  regular  schooling 
he  ever  had.  In  1582,  when  he  was  only  eighteen,  he 
married  Anne  Hathaway,  of  the  hamlet  of  Shottery,  near 


Shakespeare  1 5 

Stratford,  who  was  some  eight  years  older  than  himself. 
A  daughter  was  born  to  him  in  1583,  and  twins  —  a 
boy  and  a  girl  —  two  years  later.  He  had  no  other 
children. 


STRATFORD  CHURCH 

It  was  probably  in  the  next  year,  1586,  that  Shake- 
speare went  to  London,  where  he  became,  first  an  actor, 
then  a  writer  for  the  stage.  As  an  actor  he  seems  to 
have  made  no  special  mark,  but  as  a  writer  he  very  soon 
distinguished  himself,  and  in  a  few  years  had  won  the 
foremost  rank  among  the  dramatists  of  his  time.  In 
1598,  Francis  Meres,  in  his  Palladis  Tamia,  or  Wifs 


i6 


The  Life  and  Works  of 


Treasury,  speaks  of  him  as  "  the  most  excellent  among 
the  English  for  both  kinds  of  tragedy  and  comedy." 
His  works  not  only  became  widely  popular,  but  they 
brought  him  special  marks  of  favour  and  approval  from 
Queen  Elizabeth  and  her  successor,  James,  and  gained 


CHAPEL  OF  GUILD  AND  GRAMMAR  SCHOOL 

for  him  the  patronage  and  friendship  of  some  of  the 
most  accomplished  men  of  rank  of  that  day. 

But  while  thus  prosperous  and  honoured  in  London, 
Shakespeare  continued  to  look  upon  Stratford  as  his 
home.  There  he  had  left  his  wife  and  children,  and 
thither,  after  he  had  secured  a  competency,  he  returned 
to  spend  the  evening  of  his  days.  It  was  probably 
about  the  year  1611  that  he  settled  down  in  Stratford, 


Shakespeare  17 

at  New  Place,  an  estate  purchased  in  1597.  His  wife 
was  still  living,  and  also  his  two  daughters,  of  whom 
the  elder,  Susanna,  was  married  in  June,  1607,  to  Dr. 
John  Hall,  an  eminent  physician  of  the  time.  The 
younger  daughter,  Judith,  was  married  to  Mr.  Thomas 
Quiney,  a  Stratford  vintner,  in  February,  1616.  Ham- 
net,  the  poet's  son,  had  died  in  1596,  in  his  twelfth  year. 

Shakespeare  died  at  Stratford  on  the  23d  of  April, 
1616,  and  was  buried  in  the  parish  church. 

The  poet's  family  became  extinct  with  his  grand- 
children. Elizabeth,  the  only  child  of  the  Halls,  was 
twice  married,  but  had  no  offspring.  Thomas  and 
Judith  Quiney  had  three  sons,  one  of  whom  died  in 
babyhood,  the  others  at  eighteen  and  twenty  respec- 
tively. Judith  lived  to  the  age  of  seventy-six,  dying  in 
February,  1638.  Lady  Barnard  (Elizabeth  Hall)  died 
in  February,  1669,  at  the  age  of  sixty-one. 

His  Works.  —  The  first  work  of  Shakespeare  which 
was  printed  with  his  name  was  the  poem  of  Venus  and 
Adonis,  which  appeared  in  1593.  In  the  dedication  to 
the  Earl  of  Southampton  the  author  styles  it  "  the  first 
heir  of  his  invention. "  In  1 594,  The  Rape  of  Lucrece  was 
published.  Both  these  poems  were  reprinted  several 
times  in  the  poet's  lifetime.  His  only  other  works, 
besides  the  plays,  are  a  few  of  the  pieces  in  The  Pas- 
sionate Pilgrim  (a  small  collection  of  poems,  first  printed 
in  1599),  and  his  Sonnets  (154  in  number),  with  a  poem 
entitled  A  Lovers  Complaint,  which  appeared  together 
in  1609. 

MER.  OF  YEN.  —  2 


i8 


The  Life  and  Works  of 


The  first  edition  of  his  collected  dramatic  works 
contained  all  the  plays  generally  included  in  modern 
editions,  with  the  exception  of  Pericles,  and  was  pub- 
lished in  a  folio  volume,  in  1623,  or  not  till  seven  years 
after  his  death.  It  was  put  forth  by  two  of  his  friends 


FIRESIDE.— KITCHEN  OF  HOUSE  IN  HENLEY  STREET 


f 


and  fellow-actors,  John  Heminge  and  Henrie  Condell, 
and  the  title-page  declares  it  to  be  printed  "  according 
to  the  true  original  copies."  The  preface  also  con- 
demns all  preceding  editions  of  separate  plays1  as 

1  Eighteen  of  the  plays  are  known  to  have  been  separately  printed, 
some  of  them  more  than  once,  in  Shakespeare's  lifetime.  Othello  was 
also  printed  separately  in  1622.  All  these  editions  are  in  quarto  form; 
and  are  commonly  known  as  the  old  or  early  quartos. 


Shakespeare  1 9 

"  stolen  and  surreptitious  copies,  maimed  and  deformed 
by  the  frauds  and  stealths  of  injurious  impostors,"  while 
it  claims  that  the  publishers  of  this  volume  had  the  use 
of  the  author's  manuscripts.  They  probably  had  the 
use  of  such  of  his  papers  as  were  in  the  possession  of 
the  Blackfriars  Theatre,  to  which  they,  like  himself, 
belonged.  The  volume,  however,  had  no  proper  edit- 
ing, and  every  page  is  disfigured  by  the  grossest  typo- 
graphical errors.  While  it  is  the  earliest  and  the  only 
authentic  edition  of  the  plays,  it  cannot  be  accepted  as 
anything  like  an  infallible  authority  in  all  cases  for 
what  Shakespeare  actually  wrote.  The  quartos,  though 
they  were  all  piratical  ventures,  are  of  considerable 
value  in  the  correction  of  its  errors  and  imperfections. 

The  volume  just  described  is  commonly  known  as 
the  "  first  folio."  A  second  folio  edition,  including  the 
same  plays,  appeared  in  1632.  It  contains  some  new 
readings,  which  are  probably  nothing  more  than  the 
conjectural  emendations  of  the  unknown  editor. 

The  third  folio,  a  reprint  of  the  second,  with  few 
variations  of  any  value  or  interest,  was  first  published 
in  1663.  It  was  reissued  the  next  year,  with  the  addi- 
tion of  seven  plays :  Pericles •,  The  London  Prodigal, 
Thomas  Lord  Cromwell,  Sir  John  Oldcastle,  The  Puritan 
Widow,  A  Yorkshire  Tragedy,  and  Locrine.  Pericles  is 
the  only  one  of  these  in  which  Shakespeare  could  have 
had  any  hand. 

A  fourth  and  last  folio  was  brought  out  in  1685.  It 
was  a  reprint  of  that  of  1664  (including  the  seven  plays 


2O      The  Life  and  Works  of  Shakespeare 

just  mentioned),  with  the  spelling  somewhat  modernized, 
but  few  other  changes. 

These  four  folios  were  the  only  editions  of  the  plays 
brought  out  in  the  seventeenth  century.  The  eigh- 
teenth century  produced  a  long  succession  of  editors  — 
Rowe,  Pope,  Theobald,  Hanmer,  Warburton,  Johnson, 
Steevens,  Capell,  Reed,  Malone,  and  Rann.  In  1803 
(2d  edition,  1813)  appeared  what  is  known  as  Reed^s 
Second  Edition  of  Johnson  and  Steevens ',  in  twenty-one 
volumes,  in  which  were  incorporated  most  of  the  notes 
of  the  preceding  editions.  This  was  followed  by  the 
Variorum  of  1821 ',  also  in  twenty-one  volumes,  mostly 
prepared  by  Malone,  but  completed  and  carried  through 
the  press  by  his  friend  Boswell.  The  most  important 
English  editions  of  more  recent  date  are  those  of 
Knight,  Collier,  Singer,  Staunton,  Dyce,  Clark  and 
Wright  (the  "  Cambridge  "  edition),  Charles  and  Mary 
Cowden-Clarke,  Halliwell-Phillipps,  and  Irving  and 
Marshall  (the  "  Henry  Irving  "  edition).  Of  American 
editions  the  most  noteworthy  are  Verplanck's  (1847). 
Hudson's  (1855  and  1881),  Grant  White's  (1857-1865 
and  1883),  and  Furness's  ("  New  Variorum  "  edition, 
begun  in  1871). 


COLONNADE  OF  DUCAL  PALACE,  VENICE 


INTRODUCTION   TO   THE   MERCHANT 
OF  VENICE 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  PLAY 

The  Merchant  of  Venice  is  the  last  on  a  list  of  Shake- 
speare's plays  given  by  Francis  Meres  in  his  Palladis 
Tamia,  1598.  In  the  same  year  it  was  entered  as  fol- 
lows on  the  Register  of  the  Stationers'  Company :  — 

"22  Julii,  1598  James  Robertes.]  A  booke  of  the 
Marchaunt  of  Venyce,  or  otherwise  called  the  Jewe  of 

21 


22  The  Merchant  of  Venice 

Venyce.  Provided  that  yt  bee  not  prynted  by  the  said 
James  Robertes,  or  anye  other  whatsoever,  without 
lycence  first  had  from  the  Right  honorable  the  lord 
Chamberlen." 

The  company  of  players  to  which  Shakespeare  be- 
longed, and  for  which  he  wrote,  was  "  the  Lord  Cham- 
berlain's Servants  " ;  and  the  above  order  was  meant 
to  prohibit  the  publication  of  the  play  until  the  patron 
of  the  company  should  give  his  permission.  This  he 
appears  not  to  have  done  until  two  years  later,  when 
the  following  entry  was  made  in  the  Register  :  — 

"  28  Octobris,  1600,  Thomas  haies.]  .  .  .the  booke  of 
the  merchant  of  Venyce." 

Soon  after  this  entry,  or  before  the  end  of  1600,  the 
play  was  published  by  Heyes  in  quarto  form;  and 
another  edition,  also  in  quarto,  was  issued  the  same 
year  by  Roberts. 

Philip  Henslowe,  a  theatrical  manager  of  the  time> 
in  his  Diary,  in  which  he  kept  his  accounts,  with  the 
dates  of  plays  that  he  brought  out,  etc.  (a  book  of  great 
value  to  students  of  dramatic  history),  records,  under 
the  date  "25  of  aguste,  1594,"  the  performance  of  "the 
Venesyon  comodey,"  which  is  marked  ne,  as  a  new 
play.  Some  critics  take  this  to  be  The  Merchant  of 
Venice,  since  the  company  of  players  to  which  Shake- 
speare belonged  was  then  acting  at  Henslowe 's  theatre  ; 
but  it  is  quite  impossible  that  the  play  could  have  been 
written  as  early  as  1594.  The  more  probable  date  is 
1596  or  1597. 


Introduction  23 

THE  SOURCES  OF  THE  PLOT 

In  the  plot  of  The  Merchant  of  Venice  two  distinct 
stories  —  that  of  the  bond  and  that  of  the  caskets  —  are 
skilfully  interwoven.  Both  are  found  in  the  Gesta  Roma- 
norum,  a  Latin  collection  of  fictitious  narratives,  which 
had  been  translated  into  English  as  early  as  the  time  of 
Henry  VI.  It  is  probable,  however,  that  Shakespeare 
was  indebted,  directly  or  indirectly,  for  the  incidents 
connected  with  the  bond  to  a  story  in  //  Pecorone,  a 
collection  of  tales  by  Giovanni  Fiorentino,  first  pub- 
lished at  Milan  in  1558,  though  written  almost  two 
centuries  earlier.  In  this  story  we  have  a  rich  lady 
at  Belmont,  who  is  to  be  won  on  certain  conditions  of 
a  nature  unsuited  for  dramatic  purposes ;  and  she  is 
finally  won  by  a  young  merchant,  whose  friend,  having 
become  surety  for  him  to  a  Jew  under  the  same  penalty 
as  in  the  play,  is  rescued  by  the  adroitness  of  the  mar- 
ried lady,  disguised  as  a  lawyer.  She  receives,  as  in 
the  play,  her  marriage  ring  as  a  gratuity,  and  afterwards 
banters  her  husband,  as  Portia  does,  upon  the  loss  of  it. 
An  English  translation  of  the  book  was  extant  in  Shake- 
speare's time. 

Possibly  the  dramatist  was  somewhat  indebted  to  The 
Orator,  translated  from  the  French  of  Alexander  Sil- 
vayn  (London,  1596).  Portions  of  the  95th  Declama- 
tion in  this  book  are  strikingly  like  some  of  Shylock's 
speeches  at  the  trial.  It  is  doubtful  whether  the  old 
ballad  of  Gernutus,  which  some  critics  believe  that 


24  The  Merchant  of  Venice 

Shakespeare  used,  is  earlier  or  later  than  the  play; 
but  even  if  it  was  earlier,  it  is  improbable  that  he 
was  indebted  to  it,  or  to  sundry  other  versions  of  the 
story,  in  prose  or  verse,  which  editors  and  commen- 
tators have  discovered. 

There  is  good  reason,  however,  to  believe  that  the 
bond  and  casket  legends  had  been  blended  in  dramatic 
form  before  Shakespeare  began  to  write  for  the  stage. 
Stephen  Gosson,  a  Puritan  author,  in  his  Schoole  of 
Abuse  (1579),  excepts  a  few  plays  from  the  sweeping 
condemnation  of  his  "  plesaunt  invective  against  Poets, 
Pipers,  Plaiers,  Jesters,  and  such-like  caterpillers  of  a 
Common welth."  Among  these  exceptions  he  mentions 
"  The  Jew,  .  .  .  representing  the  gree dines se  of  worldly 
chusers,  and  the  bloody  minds  of  usurers"  We  have  no 
other  knowledge  of  this  play  of  The  Jew ;  but  the 
nationality  of  its  hero  and  the  double  moral,  agree- 
ing so  exactly  with  that  of  The  Merchant  of  Venice, 
render  it  probable  that  the  plots  of  the  two  dramas 
were  essentially  the  same,  and  that  Shakespeare,  in 
this  instance  as  in  others,  worked  upon  some  rough 
model  already  prepared  for  him.  The  question,  how- 
ever, is  not  of  great  importance.  "  Be  the  merit  of 
the  fable  whose  it  may,  the  characters,  the  language, 
the  poetry,  and  the  sentiment  are  his,  and  his  alone. 
To  no  other  writer  of  the  period  could  we  be  indebted 
for  the  charming  combination  of  womanly  grace,  and 
dignity,  and  playfulness  which  is  found  in  Portia ;  for 
the  exquisite  picture  of  friendship  between  Bassanio 


Introduction  25 

and  Antonio ;  for  the  profusion  of  poetic  beauties  scat- 
tered over  the  play ;  and  for  the  masterly  delineation 
of  that  perfect  type  of  Judaism  in  olden  times,  the 
character  of  Shy  lock  himself  "  (Staunton). 

Similarly,  Mr.  Grant  White,  after  referring  to  Shake- 
speare's indebtedness  for  the  materials  of  his  plot  to 
the  old  story-tellers,  and  probably  for  their  combination 
in  dramatic  form  to  an  earlier  playwright,  asks :  "  What 
then  remains  to  Shakespeare?  and  what  is  there  to 
show  that  he  is  not  a  plagiarist?  Everything  that 
makes  The  Merchant  of  Venice  what  it  is.  The  people 
are  puppets,  and  the  incidents  are  all  in  these  old  stories. 
They  are  mere  bundles  of  barren  sticks  that  the  poet's 
touch  causes  to  bloom  like  Aaron's  rod ;  they  are  heaps 
of  dry  bones  till  he  clothes  them  with  human  flesh  and 
breathes  into  them  the  breath  of  life.  Antonio ',  grave, 
pensive,  prudent  save  in  his  devotion  to  his  young  kins- 
man, as  a  Christian  hating  the  Jew,  as  a  royal  merchant 
despising  the  usurer ;  Bassanio,  lavish  yet  provident,  a 
generous  gentleman  although  a  fortune-seeker,  wise 
although  a  gay  gallant,  and  manly  though  dependent ; 
Gratiano,  who  unites  the  not  too  common  virtues  of 
thorough  good  nature  and  unselfishness  with  the  some- 
times not  unserviceable  fault  of  talking  for  talkvo  sake  ; 
Shylock,  crafty  and  cruel,  whose  revenge  is  as  mean  as 
it  is  fierce  and  furious,  whose  abuse  never  rises  to 
invective,  and  who  has  yet  some  dignity  of  port  a?  the 
avenger  of  a  nation's  wrongs,  some  claim  upon  our 
sympathy  as  a  father  outraged  by  his  only  child ;  and 


26  The  Merchant  of  Venice 

Portia,  matchless  impersonation  of  that  rare  woman 
who  is  gifted  even  more  in  intellect  than  loveliness, — 
these,  not  to  notice  minor  characters  no  less  perfectly 
organized  or  completely  developed  after  their  kind  — 
these,  and  the  poetry  which  is  their  atmosphere,  and 
through  which  they  beam  upon  us,  all  radiant  in  its 
golden  light,  are  Shakespeare's  only ;  and  these  it  is, 
and  not  the  incidents  of  old  and,  but  for  these,  forgotten 
tales,  that  make  The  Merchant  of  Venice  a  priceless  and 
imperishable  dower  to  the  queenly  city  that  sits  en- 
throned upon  the  sea  —  a  dower  of  romance  more 
bewitching  than  that  of  her  moonlit  waters  and  beauty- 
laden  balconies,  of  adornment  more  splendid  than  that 
of  her  pictured  palaces,  of  human  interest  more  endur- 
ing than  that  of  her  blood-stained  annals,  more  touching 
even  than  the  sight  of  her  faded  grandeur." 

SHAKESPEARE  AND  ITALY 

In  As  You  Like  It,  Rosalind,  bantering  the  affected 
Jaques  on  having  been  in  foreign  lands  and  come  home 
only  to  "  disable  all  the  benefits  of  his  own  country  and 
be  out  of  love  with  his  nativity,"  says,  "  Look  you  lisp 
and  wear' strange  suits,  or  I  will  scarce  think  you  have 
swam  in  a  gondola."  To  have  swam  in  a  gondola  was 
to  Rosalind  —  and  to  Shakespeare,  we  may  say  —  the 
typical  achievement  of  a  traveller ;  and  it  may  still  be 
so  regarded.  There  is  nothing  else  so  novel  in  all  one's 
tourist  experiences  —  nothing  that  so  makes  one  feel 


Introduction  27 

his  distance  from  his  native  land  and  all  its  ways  and 
habits. 

If  he  comes  by  rail  to  Venice  he  finds  the  station 
much  like  that  in  any  other  large  city.  He  leaves 
the  train,  goes  with  the  crowd  toward  the  'door,  steps 
out  into  the  open  air  —  and  into  a  new  world,  or  rather 
an  old  one,  though  new  to  him.  It  is  a  step  from  the 
nineteenth  century  to  the  fifteenth.  It  seems  for  the 
moment  like  magic.  He  looks  back  to  see  if  the  rail- 
way station  has  not  vanished  into  thin  air ;  and  this 
seems  actually  to  have  happened,  for  the  handsome 
front  of  the  building  might  belong  to  any  other  structure 
as  well.  He  is  in  a  small  square  on  the  bank  of  the 
Grand  Canal,  where  a  whole  fleet  of  gondolas  is  drawn 
up,  waiting  for  passengers  like  the  hackney  carriages 
at  one  of  our  railway  terminals.  He  jumps  on  board 
one  of  them,  gives  the  name  of  his  hotel  to  the  gondo- 
lier, and  is  soon  afloat  on  the  marine  Broadway  of 
Venice. 

It  is  now  that,  swimming  in  a  gondola,  he  really  feels 
the  significance  of  Rosalind's  allusion  to  it.  And  he  is 
not  only  in  a  strange  land,  but  in  a  long-past  age. 
From  the  railway  train  to  the  gondola  is  from  our  land 
to  Venice,  and  from  our  day  to  Shakespeare's.  There 
is  something  in  the  noiseless,  gliding  motion  of  the 
craft,  especially  in  this  sudden  transition  to  it  from 
the  clatter  and  jar  and  rush  of  the  train,  which  adds 
indescribably  to  the  dreamy,  delusive  effect.  Every- 
thing around  him  is  in  keeping  with  the  bewildering 


28  The  Merchant  of  Venice 

enchantment  Nothing  distinctively  modern  is  to  be 
seen  on  either  hand.  He  has  actually  been  transported 
to  an  old  world  of  history,  poetry,  and  romance,  of 
which  hitherto  he  has  had  only  a  vague  idea.  Soon 
the  gondola  turns  out  of  the  Grand  Canal  into  one  of 
the  narrow  canals  that  afford  a  short  cut  across  its 
immense  curves,  and  he  is  in  a  stream  only  a  few  yards 
wide,  hemmed  in  by  lofty  time-worn  walls  —  one  of  the 
watery  back  alleys  of  the  old  city;  but  he  emerges 
upon  the  Grand  Canal  again  near  the  Rialto  Bridge. 
The  gondolier  points  it  out,  but  it  was  not  necessary ; 
he  could  not  possibly  mistake  it.  Near  the  end  of  the 
canal  he  reaches  his  hotel,  fronting  upon  it.  It  is  an 
old  palace  —  three  or  four  hundred  years  old  —  but  for 
the  most  part  so  remodeled  within  that  one  could  not 
distinguish  it  from  any  modern  hotel ;  and  our  tourist 
is  back  into  the  twentieth  century  again  as  the  elevator 
takes  him  to  his  room. 

This  may  seem  a  long  introduction,  and  rather  in- 
tended to  air  my  memories  of  travel,  in  the  manner  of 
our  friend  Jaques,  than  to  lead  up  to  my  subject.  I 
have  dwelt  upon  it  as  illustrating  our  entrance  upon  the 
study  of  Shakespeare.  In  coming  to  Venice,  I  have 
said,  we  enter  upon  an  old  world  of  history,  poetry  ? 
and  romance ;  and  to  such  a  world  of  poetry  and 
romance  and  history  does  Shakespeare  introduce  us 
—  a  world  full  of  life  and  action,  crowded  with  per- 
sonages real  and  unreal,  yet  the  latter  none  the  less 
real  because  they  were  born  of  the  poet's  brain  —  a 


Introduction  29 

world  with  its  England  and  France,  its  Greece  and 
Italy,  its  London,  Paris,  Rome,  and  Venice,  where  we 
may  travel  at  will  without  stirring  from  our  home  fire- 
side, and  see  and  learn  quite  as  much  as  some  do  who 
have  actually  swam  in  a  gondola. 

I  cannot  but  envy  those  to  whom  this  Shakespearian 
world  is  as  yet  a  new  and  unknown  world,  to  which 
they  come,  as  I  did  to  Venice,  at  sunset  of  a  lovely 
April  day,  floating  in  a  gondola  on  the  Grand  Canal 
for  the  first  time.  They  may  return  to  it  again  and 
again,  as  to  Venice,  and  in  some  respects  with  in- 
creased enjoyment;  but  there  is  something  in  the  fas- 
cination of  that  first  experience  which  can  never  be 
renewed. 

England  and  Italy  are  preeminently  the  countries  of 
Shakespeare's  plays.  The  scenes  of  fourteen  of  them 
(including  the  historical  plays)  are  laid  wholly  or  partly 
in  England,  and  of  eleven  (including  the  Roman  plays), 
wholly  or  partly  in  Italy.  I  count  The  Tempest  among 
the  latter  because  the  characters  are  Italian,  though  the 
scene  is  an  island  not  put  down  in  any  prosaic  manual 
of  geography.  The  other  plays,  twelve  in  number,  are 
scattered  through  various  lands,  —  Greece,  Illyria,  Bohe- 
mia, France,  Sicily  (not  a  part  of  Italy  in  Shakespeare's 
day),  Denmark,  etc. 

Some  of  these  are  mere  names.  The  Illyria  of 
Twelfth  Night  and  the  Bohemia  and  Sicily  of  The 
Winter's  Tale,  for  instance,  might  be  anywhere  else. 
In  the  Elizabethan  age  the  theatres  had  no  painted 


30  The  Merchant  of  Venice 

scenery,  and  a  sign  or  placard  was  often  put  up  at 
the  back  of  the  stage  to  indicate  the  locality,  —  Athens, 
Rome,  Venice,  or  whatever  it  might  be.  The  sign  was 
the  only  aid  to  the  spectator's  imagination,  which  had 
to  furnish  a  local  habitation  for  the  name  as  best  it 
could.  And  so  with  the  Messina  of  Much  Ado,  the 
Vienna  of  Measure  for  Measure,  the  Ephesus  of  The, 
Comedy  of  Errors,  and  the  like.  They  are  nothing 
more  than  names  stuck  up  on  a  stage  without  scenery. 
Transpose  these  names  from  one  play  to  another,  and 
it  would  make  no  difference  except  in  the  measure  of 
a  few  lines  in  which  they  occur. 

But  the  Italian  scenes  are  veritably  Italian.  In  The 
Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  indeed,  this  local  tone  is  not 
so  marked,  and  the  poet  is  guilty  of  the  blunder  of 
sending  a  ship  from  Verona  to  Milan ; 1  but  that  is 
one  of  the  earliest  plays  of  Shakespeare,  and  it  is  evi- 
dent that  he  was  not  then  so  familiar  with  Italy  as 
when  he  wrote  the  later  plays  of  which  that  country 
is  the  scene. 

And  here  the  question  arises,  Did  the  poet  visit 
Italy  ?  Did  he  ever  swim  in  a  gondola  ?  It  is  not 
impossible  —  though  it  seems  to  me,  on  the  whole,  im- 
probable— that  he  may  have  done  so.  There  are  sev- 
eral years  of  his  life  after  he  went  to  London  about 

1  It  is  said  that  there  was  a  canal  between  the  two  cities  when 
Shakespeare  wrote;  but  the  allusions  to  the  tide  and  to  the  danger 
of  shipwreck  (i.  I.  117,  ii.  3.  36)  prove  that  he  had  in  mind  a  voyage 
by  sea. 


Introduction  31 

which  we  know  absolutely  nothing,  and  where  he  was 
and  what  he  was  doing  can  be  only  matter  of  con- 
jecture. Critics  who  have  been  in  Italy,  and  some 
who  have  long  resided  there,  find  it  difficult  to  explain 
his  minute  acquaintance  with  the  manners  of  the  coun- 
try except  on  the  theory  that  he  had  visited  it.  It 
may  be  said  that  he  got  this  knowledge  from  friends 
who  had  traveled,  as  some  of  his  fellow-actors  are 
known  to  have  done ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is 
urged  that  such  second-hand  information  could  hardly 
have  made  him  so  perfectly  at  home  in  Italy  that  he 
never  falls  into  any  mistakes,  even  in  those  little  mat- 
ters which  are  rarely  noted  in  books  of  travel  or  talked 
about  by  tourists. 

In  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  for  instance  (ii.  2),  Old 
Gobbo  brings  .a  present  of  a  "  dish  of  doves  "  for 
Launcelot's  master.  "  Where,"  asks  Mr.  Charles  A. 
Brown  (Shakespeare's  Autobiographical  Poems,  1858), 
"  did  the  poet  obtain  his  numerous  graphic  touches  of 
national  manners  ?  Where  did  he  learn  of  an  old  vil- 
lager's coming  into  the  city  with  a  dish  of  doves  as  a 
present  to  his  son's  master?  A  present  thus  given, 
and  of  doves,  is  not  uncommon  in  Italy.  I  myself 
have  partaken  there,  with  due  relish,  in  memory  of 
poor  old  Gobbo,  of  a  dish  of  doves  presented  by  the 
father  of  a  servant."  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew  has 
many  of  these  little  Italian  touches,  and  they  are  to 
be  found  in  other  of  the  Italian  plays. 

In  The  Merchant  of  Venice  the  very  atmosphere  is 


32  The  Merchant  of  Venice 

Italian.  In  the  charming  fifth  act,  which  is  so  refresh- 
ing and  restful  to  our  feelings  after  the  almost  tragic 
interest  of  the  trial  scene,  like  the  calm  and  repose  of 
a  beautiful  moonlit  evening  after  the  exhaustion  of  an 
anxious  and  exciting  day,  Portia  says :  — 

"This  night,  methinks,  is  but  the  daylight  sick; 
It  looks  a  little  paler :  'tis  a  day 
Such  as  the  day  is  when  the  sun  is  hid." 

There  is  no  such  moonlight  in  England;  but  there  is 
in  Italy — as  in  New  England,  where  we  have  skies  as 
blue  and  clear  as  bend  over  Venice  or  Florence  or 
Naples.  To  one  going  from  England  to  Italy  the 
difference  in  the  transparency  of  the  atmosphere  is 
as  striking  as  that  in  the  climate  or  the  vegetation. 

But,  whether  Shakespeare  was  ever  in  Italy  in  bodily 
presence,  or  saw  its  cities  and  its  people,  its  skies  and 
its  moonlight,  only  with  the  mind's  eye,  he  takes  us  to 
the  real  Italy  in  his  plays,  and  not  to  a  theatrical  cari- 
cature of  the  country.  As  some  critic  has  said,  the 
merchant  of  Venice  is  a  merchant  of  no  other  city  in 
the  world ;  and  it  may  be  added  that  everything  in  the 
play  is  equally  Venetian.  And  yet  the  strictly  topo- 
graphical allusions  are  only  one  or  two.  The  Rialto 
is  mentioned,  but  it  should  be  understood  that  it  is 
not  the  bridge  so  called,  but  the  merchants'  exchange, 
which  was  on  the  Rialto,  one  of  the  islands  on  which 
the  city  was  built,  and  originally  its  political  and  com- 
mercial centre.  The  bridge,  one  end  of  which  is  on 


Introduction  33 

this  island  (whence  it  gets  its  name),  was  begun  in 
1588  and  finished  in  1591,  or  several  years  before  the 
earliest  date  ascribed  to  the  play.  The  exchange  was 
held  in  the  open  place  in  front  of  the  church  of  San 
Giacomo,  a  little  way  from  the  bridge.  No  merchants, 
except  humble  dealers  in  fruit  and  vegetables,  congre- 
gate there  now,  and  the  locality  has  a  thoroughly  ple- 
beian character ;  but  in  the  olden  time  it  was  thronged 
by  the  Shylocks  and  Antonios,  and  their  patrons  and  cus- 
tomers, during  the  business  hours  of  the  day.  Thomas 
Coryat,  in  his  Crudities,  published  in  1611,  says :  "  The 
Rialto,  which  is  at  the  farthest  side  of  the  bridge,  as 
you  come  from  St.  Marks,  is  a  most  stately  building, 
being  the  Exchange  of  Venice,  where  the  Venetian  gen- 
tlemen and  the  merchants  doe  meete  twice  a  day,  betwixt 
eleven  and  twelve  of  the  clocke  in  the  morning,  and 
betwixt  five  and  sixe  of  the  clocke  in  the  afternoone. 
This  Rialto  is  of  a  goodly  height,  .  .  .  adorned  with 
many  faire  walkes  or  open  galleries,  .  .  .  and  hath  a 
pretty  quadrangular  court  adjoining  to  it."  Fynes  Mory- 
son,  in  his  Ten  Yeares  Travell  (1617),  describes  it  thus : 
"  The  foure  square  market-place  of  Rialto  is  compassed 
with  publike  houses,  under  the  arches  whereof,  and  in 
the  middle  part  lying  open,  the  merchants  meet."  Archi- 
tecturally it  remains  the  same  to-day,  —  an  open  square 
surrounded  by  the  arcaded  buildings  (like  St.  Mark's 
Place,  on  a  smaller  scale)  erected  in  the  early  part  of 
the  sixteenth  century.  Near  one  corner  of  the  square 
>s  a  short  column  of  Egyptian  granite,  supported  by  a 

MER.   OF  VEN.  —  3 


34  The  Merchant  of  Venice 

kneeling  hunchback  ("  II  Gobbo  di  Rialto,"  also  of  the 
sixteenth  century),  from  which  the  laws  of  the  Republic 
were  promulgated. 

Perhaps  the  only  other  local  allusion  in  the  play, 
aside  from  the  mention  of  gondolas,  is  that  to  "  the 
common  ferry  that  trades  to  Venice,"  which  recognizes 
the  insular  position  of  the  city,  connected  with  the  main- 
land only  by  ferries,  as  it  continued  to  be  until  the 
building  of  the  railway  bridge  in  1845.  But  we  feel 
that  we  are  in  Venice  all  the  time — Venice  in  the  old 
days  of  its  power  and  wealth,  when  the  argosies  of  the 
world  thronged  its  port,  and,  as  Antonio  says,  "  the 
trade  and  profit  of  the  city  consisted  of  all  nations." 
It  is  no  absurdity  that  suitors,  not  only  from  all  parts 
of  Italy,  but  from  France,  England,  Scotland,  Germany, 
Spain,  and  Morocco,  are  made  to  come  as  rivals  for  the 
hand  of  Portia,  — so  many  Jasons  in  quest  of  the  golden 
fleece  at  Belmont. 

The  mention  of  the  ferry  to  Venice  indicates  that 
Shakespeare  supposed  Belmont  to  be  on  the  mainland, 
though  he  probably  had  no  definite  locality  in  mind. 
We  may  imagine  it  to  have  been  in  the  country  west- 
ward of  Venice,  where  there  were  then,  as  now,  many 
villas  of  the  Venetian  nobility.  This  is  on  the  direct 
road  to  Padua,  about  halfway  between  that  city  and 
Venice,  which  is  twenty-two  miles  from  Padua  by  the 
present  railway,  or  twenty-six  by  steam  tramway  to 
Fusina  and  steamer  from  there  (probably  the  termi- 
nus of  the  ancient  ferry)  to  Venice. 


THE   MERCHANT   OF  VENICE 


35 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS 

THE  DUKE  OF  VENICE 

THE  PRINCE  OF  MOROCCO,  |        ..       .    «    t, 

THE  PRINCE  OF  ARRAGON,  f   smtors  to  Portia- 

ANTONIO,  the  Merchant  of  Venice. 

BASSANIO,  his  friend. 

SALANIO,     \ 

SALARINO,    >  friends  to  Antonio  and  Bassanio. 

GRATIANO,  ) 

LORENZO,  in  love  with  Jessica. 

SHYLOCK,  a  Jew. 

TUBAL,  a  Jew,  his  friend. 

LAUNCELOT  GOBBO,  a  clown. 

OLD  GOBBO,  father  to  tauncelot. 

SALERIO,  a  messenger. 

LEONARDO,  servant  to  Bassanio. 


PORTIA,  a  rich  heiress. 
NERISSA,  her  waiting-maid. 
JESSICA,  daughter  to  Shy  lock. 

Magnificoes  of  Venice,  Officers  of  the  Court  of  Jus- 
tice, Gaoler,  Servants,  and  other  Attendants. 

SCENE  :  Partly  at  Venice,  and  partly  at  Belmont. 


ST.  MARK'S  PLACE 


ACT   I 

SCENE  I.     Venice.     A  Street 

Enter  ANTONIO,  SALARINO,  and  SALANIO 

Antonio.    In  sooth,  I  know  not  why  I  am  so  sad. 
It  wearies  me,  you  say  it  wearies  you ; 
But  how  I  caught  it,  found  it,  or  came  by  it, 
What  stuff  't  is  made  of,  whereof  it  is  born, 
I  am  to  learn ; 

And  such  a  want-wit  sadness  makes  of  me 
That  I  have  much  ado  to  know  myself. 

Salarino.   Your  mind  is  tossing  on  the  ocean; 
There  where  your  argosies  with  portly  sail, 
Like  signiors  and  rich  burghers  on  the  flood, 

37 


38  The  Merchant  of  Venice  [Acti 

Or,  as  it  were,  the  pageants  of  the  sea, 
Do  overpeer  the  petty  traffickers, 
That  curtsy  to  them,  do  them  reverence, 
As  they  fly  by  them  with  their  woven  wings. 

Salanio.   Believe  me,  sir,  had  I  such  venture  forth, 
The  better  part  of  my  affections  would 
Be  with  my  hopes  abroad.     I  should  be  still 
Plucking  the  grass,  to  know  where  sits  the  wind, 
Peering  in  maps  for  ports  and  piers  and  roads; 
And  every  object  that  might  make  me  fear  20 

Misfortune  to  my  ventures,  out  of  doubt, 
Would  make  me  sad. 

Salarino.  My  wind,  cooling  my  broth, 

Would  blow  me  to  an  ague  when  I  thought 
What  harm  a  wind  too  great  might  do  at  sea. 
I  should  not  see  the  sandy  hourglass  run 
But  I  should  think  of  shallows  and  of  flats, 
And  see  my  wealthy  Andrew  dock'd  in  sand, 
Vailing  her  high-top  lower  than  her  ribs, 
To  kiss  her  burial.     Should  I  go  to  church 
And  see  the  holy  edifice  of  stone,  30 

And  not  bethink  me  straight  of  dangerous  rocks, 
Which,  touching  but  my  gentle  vessel's  side, 
Would  scatter  all  her  spices  on  the  stream, 
Enrobe  the  roaring  waters  with  my  silks, 
And,  in  a  word,  but  even  now  worth  this, 
And  now  worth  nothing?     Shall  I  have  the  thought 
To  think  on  this,  and  shall  I  lack  the  thought 
That  such  a  thing  bechanc'd  would  make  me  sad? 


Scene  I]        The  Merchant  of  Venice  39 

But  tell  not  me ;  I  know  Antonio 

Is  sad  to  think  upon  his  merchandise.  40 

Antonio.   Believe  me,  no.     I  thank  my  fortune  for  it, 
My  ventures  are  not  in  one  bottom  trusted, 
Nor  to  one  place ;  nor  is  my  whole  estate 
Upon  the  fortune  of  this  present  year. 
Therefore  my  merchandise  makes  me  not  sad. 

Salarino.  Why,  then  you  are  in  love. 

Antonio.  Fie,  fie  ! 

Salarino.    Not   in   love   neither?      Then   let  us  say 

you  're  sad 

Because  you  are  not  merry  ;  and  't  were  as  easy 
For  you  to  laugh  and  leap,  and  say  you  're  merry 
Because  you  are  not  sad.     Now,  by  two-headed  Janus, 
Nature  hath  fram'd  strange  fellows  in  her  time :  51 

Some  that  will  evermore  peep  through  their  eyes 
And  laugh,  like  parrots,  at  a  bag-piper ; 
And  other  of  such  vinegar  aspect 
That  they  '11  not  show  their  teeth  in  way  of  smile, 
Though  Nestor  swear  the  jest  be  laughable. 

Enter  BASSANIO,  LORENZO,  and  GRATIANO 

Salanio.     Here   comes   Bassanio,   your   most    noble 

kinsman, 

Gratiano,  and  Lorenzo.     Fare  ye  well ; 
We  leave  you  now  with  better  company. 

Salarino.    I  would  have  stay'd  till  I  had  made  you 
merry  >  60 

If  worthier  friends  had  not  prevented  me. 


4<D  The  Merchant  of  Venice  [Act  I 

Antonio.   Your  worth  is  very  dear  in  my  regard. 
I  take  it,  your  own  business  calls  on  you, 
And  you  embrace  the  occasion  to  depart. 

Salarino.    Good  morrow,  my  good  lords. 

Bassanio.   Good  signiors  both,  when  shall  we  laugh  ? 

Say,  when  ? 
You  grow  exceeding  strange  ;  must  it  be  so? 

Salarino.   We '11. make  our  leisures  to  attend  on  yours. 
\Exeunt  Salarino  and  Salanio. 

Lorenzo.    My   Lord    Bassanio,    since    you  Ve    found 

Antonio, 

We  two  will  leave  you ;  but  at  dinner-time,  jo 

I  pray  you,  have  in  mind  where  we  must  meet. 

Bassanio.    I  will  not  fail  you. 

Gratiano.    You  look  not  well,  Signior  Antonio. 
You  have  too  much  respect  upon  the  world ; 
They  lose  it  that  do  buy  it  with  much  care. 
Believe  me,  you  are  marvellously  chang'd. 

Antonio.   I  hold  the  world  but  as  the  world,  Gratiano, 
A  stage  where  every  man  must  play  a  part, 
And  mine  a  sad  one. 

Gratiano.  Let  me  play  the  fool ; 

With  mirth  and  laughter  let  old  wrinkles  come,  80 

And  let  my  liver  rather  heat  with  wine 
Than  my  heart  cool  with  mortifying  groans. 
Why  should  a  man  whose  blood  is  warm  within 
Sit  like  his  grandsire  cut  in  alabaster  ? 
Sleep  when  he  wakes,  and  creep  into  the  jaundice 
By  being  peevish  ?     I  tell  thee  what,  Antonio,  — 


Scene  I]       The  Merchant  of  Venice  41 

I  love  thee,  and  it  is  my  love  that  speaks,  — 

There  are  a  sort  of  men  whose  visages 

Do  cream  and  mantle  like  a  standing  pond, 

And  do  a  wilful  stillness  entertain,  90 

With  purpose  to  be  dress'd  in  an  opinion 

Of  wisdom,  gravity,  profound  conceit ; 

As  who  should  say,  '  I  am  Sir  Oracle, 

And  when  I  ope  my  lips  let  no  dog  bark ! ' 

0  my  Antonio,  I  do  know  of  these 
That  therefore  only  are  reputed  wise 

For  saying  nothing ;  when,  I  am  very  sure, 

If  they  should  speak,  would  almost  damn  those  ears 

Which,  hearing  them,  would  call  their  brothers  fools. 

I'll  tell  thee  more  of  this  another  time ;  100 

But  fish  not,  with  this  melancholy  bait, 

For  this  fool  gudgeon,  this  opinion.  — 

Come,  good  Lorenzo.  —  Fare  ye  well  awhile  ; 

I'll  end  my  exhortation  after  dinner. 

Lorenzo.   Well,  we  will  leave  you  then  till  dinner-time. 

1  must  be  one  of  these  same  dumb  wise  men, 
For  Gratiano  never  lets  me  speak. 

Gratiano.    Well,  keep  me  company  but  two  years  moe, 
Thou  shalt  not  know  the  sound  of  thine  own  tongue. 
Antonio.    Farewell ;  I'll  grow  a  talker  for  this  gear. 
Gratiano.    Thanks,  i'  faith ;  for  silence  is  only  com- 
mendable in 
In  a  neat's  tongue  dried. 

\Exeunt  Gratiano  and  Lorenzo. 
Antonio.    Is  that  any  thing  now  ? 


42  The  Merchant  of  Venice          [Act  I 

Bassanio.  Gratiano  speaks  an  infinite  deal  of  nothing, 
more  than  any  man  in  all  Venice.  His  reasons  are  as 
two  grains  of  wheat  hid  in  two  bushels  of  chaff  ;  you 
shall  seek  all  day  ere  you  find  them,  and  when  you  have 
them  they  are  not  worth  the  search. 

Antonio.   Well,  tell  me  now,  what  lady  is  the  same 
To  whom  you  swore  a  secret  pilgrimage,  120 

That  you  to-day  promis'd  to  tell  me  of? 

Bassanio.    JT  is  not  unknown  to  you,  Antonio, 
How  much  I  have  disabled  mine  estate, 
By  something  showing  a  more  swelling  port 
Than  my  faint  means  would  grant  continuance ; 
Nor  do  I  now  make  moan  to  be  abridg'd 
From  such  a  noble  rate,  but  my  chief  care 
Is  to  come  fairly  off  from  the  great  debts 
Wherein  my  time,  something  too  prodigal, 
Hath  left  me  gag'd.     To  you,  Antonio,  130 

I  owe  the  most,  in  money  and  in  love ; 
And  from  your  love  I  have  a  warranty 
To  unburthen  all  my  plots  and  purposes, 
How  to  get  clear  of  all  the  debts  I  owe. 

Antonio.   I  pray  you,  good  Bassanio,  let  me  know  it ; 
And  if  it  stand,  as  you  yourself  still  do, 
Within  the  eye  of  honour,  be  assur'd, 
My  purse,  my  person,  my  extremest  means, 
Lie  all  unlocked  to  your  occasions. 

Bassanio.   In  my  school  days,  when  I  had  lost  one 
shaft,  140 

I  shot  his  fellow  of  the  selfsame  flight 


Scene  I]       The  Merchant  of  Venice  43 

The  selfsame  way,  with  more  advised  watch, 

To  find  the  other  forth  ;  and  by  adventuring  both 

I  oft  found  both.     I  urge  this  childhood  proof 

Because  what  follows  is  pure  innocence. 

I  owe  you  much,  and,  like  a  wilful  youth, 

That  which  I  owe  is  lost ;  but  if  you  please 

To  shoot  another  arrow  that  self  way 

Which  you  did  shoot  the  first,  I  do  not  doubt, 

As  I  will  watch  the  aim,  or  to  find  both  150 

Or  bring  your  latter  hazard  back  again, 

And  thankfully  rest  debtor  for  the  first. 

Antonio.   You  know  me  well,  and  herein  spend  but  time 
To  wind  about  my  love  with  circumstance ;  * 
And,  out  of  doubt,  you  do  me  now  more  wrong 
In  making  question  of  my  uttermost 
Than  if  you  had  made  waste  of  all  I  have. 
Then  do  but  say  to  me  what  I  should  do, 
That  in  your  knowledge  may  by  me  be  done, 
And  I  am  prest  unto  it ;  therefore  speak.  160 

Bassanio.    In  Belmont  is  a  lady  richly  left ; 
*  And  she  is  fair  and,  fairer  than  that  word, 
Of  wondrous  virtues.     Sometimes  from  her  eyes 
I  did  receive  fair  speechless  messages. 
Her  name  is  Portia,  nothing  undervalued 
To  Cato's  daughter,  Brutus'  Portia. 
Nor  is  the  wide  world  ignorant  of  her  worth, 
For  the  four  winds  blow  in  from  every  coast 
Renowned  suitors ;  and  her  sunny  locks 
Hang  on  her  temples  like  a  golden  fleece,  170 


44  The  Merchant  of  Venice  [Act  I 

Which  makes  her  seat  of  Belmont  Colchos'  strand, 
And  many  Jasons  come  in  quest  of  her. 

0  my  Antonio,  had  I  but  the  means 
To  hold  a  rival  place  with  one  of  them, 

1  have  a  mind  presages  me  such  thrift 
That  I  should  questionless  be  fortunate. 

Antonio.   Thou  know'st  that  all  my  fortunes  are  at  sea ; 
Neither  have  I  money  nor  commodity 
To  raise  a  present  sum.     Therefore  go  forth  ; 
Try  what  my  credit  can  in  Venice  do.  180 

That  shall  be  rack'd,  even  to  the  uttermost, 
To  furnish  thee  to  Belmont,  to  fair  Portia. 
Go,  presently  inquire,  and  so  will  I, 
Where  money  is,  and  I  no  question  make 
To  have  it  of  my  trust  or  for  my  sake.  \_Exeunt. 

SCENE  II.     Belmont.     A  Room  in  Portia's  House 
Enter  PORTIA  and  NERISSA 

Portia.  By  my  troth,  Nerissa,  my  little  body  is 
aweary  of  this  great  world. 

Nerissa.  You  would  be,  sweet  madam,  if  your 
miseries  were  in  the  same  abundance  as  your  good 
fortunes  are  ;  and  yet,  for  aught  I  see,  they  are  as  sick 
that  surfeit  with  too  much  as  they  that  starve  with 
nothing.  It  is  no  mean  happiness,  therefore,  to  be 
seated  in  the  mean ;  superfluity  comes  sooner  by 
white  hairs,  but  competency  lives  longer. 

Portia.   Good  sentences,  and  well  pronounced.          10 


Scene  HJ      The  Merchant  of  Venice  45 

Nerissa.  They  would  be  better  if  well  followed. 

Portia.  If  to  do  were  as  easy  as  to  know  what  were 
good  to  do,  chapels  had  been  churches,  and  poor  men's 
cottages  princes'  palaces.  It  is  a  good  divine  that  fol- 
lows his  own  instructions ;  I  can  easier  teach  twenty 
what  were  good  to  be  done  than  be  one  of  the  twenty 
to  follow  mine  own  teaching.  The  brain  may  devise 
laws  for  the  blood,  but  a  hot  temper  leaps  o'er  a  cold 
decree ;  such  a  hare  is  madness,  the  youth,  to  skip 
o'er  the  meshes  of  good  counsel,  the  cripple.  But  20 
this  reasoning  is  not  in  the  fashion  to  choose  me  a 
husband." —  O  me,  the  word  '  choose  ! '  I  may  neither 
choose  whom  I  would,  nor  refuse  whom  I  dislike  ;  so 
is  the  will  of  a  living  daughter  curbed  by  the  will  of 
a  dead  father.  Is  it  not  hard,  Nerissa,  that  I  cannot 
choose  one,  nor  refuse  none? 

Nerissa.  Your  father  was  ever  virtuous,  and  holy 
men  at  their  death  have  good  inspirations  ;  therefore 
the  lottery  that  he  hath  devised  in  these  three  chests 
of  gold,  silver,  and  lead  —  whereof  who  chooses  his  30 
meaning  chooses  you  —  will,  no  doubt,  never  be 
chosen  by  any  rightly  but  one  who  you  shall  rightly 
love.  But  what  warmth  is  there  in  your  affection 
towards  any  of  these  princely  suitors  that  are  already 
come? 

Portia.   I  pray  thee,  over-name  them,  and  as  thou 
namest  them  I  will  describe  them;  and,  according 
to  my  description,  level  at  my  affection. 
.  Nerissa.   First,  there  is  the  Neapolitan  prince. 


46  The  Merchant  of  Venice          [Act  I 

Portia.   Ay,  that  's   a  colt  indeed,  for  he   doth  40 
nothing  but  talk  of  his  horse ;   and  he  makes  it  a 
great  appropriation  to  his  own  good  parts  that  he  can 
shoe  him  himself. 

Nerissa.   Then  is  there  the  County  Palatine. 

Portia.  He  doth  nothing  but  frown,  as  who  should 
say,  '  An  you  will  not  have  me,  choose.'  He  hears 
merry  tales,  and  smiles  not ;  I  fear  he  will  prove  the 
weeping  philosopher  when  he  grows  old,  being  so 
full  of  unmannerly  sadness  in  his  youth.  I  had 
rather  to  be  married  to  a  death's-head  with  a  bone  5° 
in  his  mouth  than  to  either  oi  these.  God  defend 
me  from  these  two ! 

Nerissa.   How  say  you  by  the  French  lord,  Mon- 
sieur Le  Bon  ? 

Portia.  God  made  him,  and  therefore  let  him  pass 
for  a  man.  In  truth,  I  know  it  is  a  sin  to  be  a 
mocker ;  but  he !  why,  he  hath  a  horse  better  than 
the  Neapolitan's,  a  better  bad  habit  of  frowning  thap 
the  Count  Palatine.  He  is  every  man  in  no  man ; 
if  a  throstle  sing,  he  falls  straight  a-capering;  he  60 
will  fence  with  his  own  shadow.  If  I  should  marry 
him,  I  should  marry  twenty  husbands.  If  he  would 
despise  me,  I  would  forgive  him  ;  for  if  he  love  me 
to  madness,  I  shall  never  requite  him. 

Nerissa.   What  say  you  then  to  Falconbridge,  the 
young  baron  of  England  ? 

Portia.   You  know  I  say  nothing  to  him,  for  he 
understands  not  me,  nor   I   him;   he  hath  neither 


Scene  II]      The  Merchant  of  Venice  47 

Latin,  French,  nor  Italian,  and  you  will  come  into 
the  court  and  swear  that  I  have  a  poor  pennyworth  7° 
in  the  English.  He  is  a  proper  man's  picture ;  but, 
alas !  who  can  converse  with  a  dumb  show  ?  How 
oddly  he  is  suited !  I  think  he  bought  his  doublet 
in  Italy,  his  round  hose  in  France,  his  bonnet  in 
Germany,  and  his  behaviour  every  where. 

Nerissa.  What  think  you  of  the  Scottish  lord,  his 
neighbour  ? 

Portia.   That   he   hath    a  neighbourly  charity  in 
him  ;  for  he  borrowed  a  box  of  the  ear  of  the  English- 
man, and  swore  he  would  pay  him  again  when  he  80 
was  able.     I  think  the  Frenchman  became  his  surety 
and  sealed  under  for  another. 

Nerissa.  How  like  you  the  young  German,  the 
Duke  of  Saxony's  nephew  ? 

Portia.  Very  vilely  in  the  morning  when  he  is 
sober,  and  most  vilely  in  the  afternoon  when  he 
is  drunk.  When  he  is  best,  he  is  a  little  worse  than 
a  man ;  and  when  he  is  worst,  he  is  little  better  than 
a  beast.  An  the  worst  fall  that  ever  fell,  I  hope  I 
shall  make  shift  to  go  without  him.  90 

Nerissa.  If  he  should  offer  to  choose,  and  choose 
the  right  casket,  you  should  refuse  to  perform  your 
father's  will  if  you  should  refuse  to  accept  him. 

Portia.  Therefore,  for  fear  of  the  worst,  I  pray 
thee,  set  a  deep  glass  of  Rhenish  wine  on  the  con- 
trary casket;  for  if  the  devil  be  within  and  ttiat 
temptation  without,  I  know  he  will  choose  it.  I  will 


48  The  Merchant  of  Venice  [Act  1 

do  any  thing,  Nerissa,  ere  I  will  be  married  to  a 
sponge. 

Nerissa.  You  need  not  fear,  lady,  the  having  any  100 
of  these  lords.  They  have  acquainted  me  with  their 
determinations ;  which  is,  indeed,  to  return  to  their 
home,  and  to  trouble  you  with  no  more  suit,  unless 
you  may  be  won  by  some  other  sort  than  your  father's 
imposition  depending  on  the  caskets. 

Portia.  If  I  live  to  be  as  old  as  Sibylla,  I  will  die 
as  chaste  as  Diana,  unless  I  be  obtained  by  the 
manner  of  my  father's  will.  I  am  glad  this  parcel 
of  wooers  are  so  reasonable,  for  there  is, not  one 
among  them  but  I  dote  on  his  very  absence  ;  and  no 
I  wish  them  a  fair  departure. 

Nerissa.  Do  you  not  remember,  lady,  in  your 
father's  time,  a  Venetian,  a  scholar  and  a  soldier, 
that  came  hither  in  company  of  the  Marquis  of  Mont- 
ferrat  ? 

Portia.  Yes,  yes,  it  was  Bassanio ;  as  I  think,  so 
was  he  called. 

Nerissa.  True,  madam ;  he,  of  all  the  men  that 
ever  my  foolish  eyes  looked  upon,  was  the  best 
deserving  a  fair  lady.  120 

Portia.  I  remember  him  well,  and  I  remember 
him  worthy  of  thy  praise. 

Enter  a  Servant 

Servant.  The  four  strangers  seek  for  you,  madam, 
to  take  their  leave ;  and  there  is  a  forerunner  come 


Scene  ill]     The  Merchant  of  Venice  49 

from  a  fifth,  the  Prince  of  Morocco,  who  brings  word 
the  prince  his  master  will  be  here  to-night. 

Portia.    If  I  could  bid  the  fifth  welcome  with  so 
good  heart  as  I  can  bid  the  other  four  farewell,  I 
should  be  glad  of  his  approach ;  if  he  have  the  con- 
dition of  a  saint  and  the  complexion  of  a  devil,  I  had  13° 
rather  he  should  shrive  me  than  wive  me. 
Come,  Nerissa.  —  Sirrah,  go  before. — 
Whiles  we  shut  the  gates  upon  one  wooer,  another 
knocks  at  the  door.  \Exeunt. 

SCENE  III.      Venice.     A  Public  Place 
Enter  BASSANIO  and  SHYLOCK 

Shylock.   Three  thousand  ducats,  —  well. 

Bassanio.    Ay,  sir,  for  three  months. 

Shylock.   For  three  months,  —  well. 

Bassanio.  For  the  which,  as  I  told  you,  Antonio 
shall  be  bound. 

Shylock.    Antonio  shall  become  bound,  —  well. 

Bassanio.  May  you  stead  me  ?  Will  you  pleasure 
me  ?  Shall  I  know  your  answer  ? 

Shylock.  Three  thousand  ducats  for  three  months, 
and  Antonio  bound.  10 

Bassanio.   Your  answer  to  that. 

Shylock.    Antonio  is  a  good  man. 

Bassanio.  Have  you  heard  any  imputation  to  the 
contrary  ? 

Shylock.   Ho,  no,  no,  no,  no ;  my  meaning,  in  say- 

MER.   OF  YEN.  —  4 


50  The  Merchant  of  Venice  [Act  I 

ing  he  is  a  good  man,  is  to  have  you  understand  me 
that  he  is  sufficient.  Yet  his  means  are  in  supposi- 
tion :  he  hath  an  argosy  bound  to  Tripolis,  another 
to  the  Indies ;  I  understand,  moreover,  upon  the 
Rialto,  he  hath  a  third  at  Mexico,  a  fourth  for  Eng-  20 
land,  and  other  ventures  he  hath,  squandered  abroad. 
But  ships  are  but  boards,  sailors  but  men :  there 
be  land-rats  and  water-rats,  land-thieves  and  water- 
thieves, —  I  mean  pirates;  and  then  there  is  the 
peril  of  waters,  winds,  and  rocks.  The  man  is,  not- 
withstanding, sufficient.  Three  thousand  ducats, — 
I  think  I  may  take  his  bond. 

Bassanio.    Be  assured  you  may. 

Shylock.   I  will  be  assured  I  may ;  and  that  I  may 
be  assured  I  will  bethink  me.     May  I  speak  with  3* 
Antonio  ? 

Bassanio.   If  it  please  you  to  dine  with  us. 

Shylock.  Yes,  to  smell  pork ;  to  eat  of  the  habita- 
tion which  your  prophet,  the  Nazarite,  conjured  the 
devil  into.  I  will  buy  with  you,  sell  with  you,  talk 
with  you,  walk  with  you,  and  so  following ;  but  I  will 
not  eat  with  you,  drink  with  you,  nor  pray  with  you. 
—  What  news  on  the  Rialto?  —  Who  is  he  comes 

here? 

Enter  ANTONIO 

Bassanio.   This  is  Signior  Antonio.  40 

Shylock.   \Aside\   How  like  a  fawning  publican  he 

looks  1 
I  hate  him  for  he  is  a  Christian, 


Scene  in]     The  Merchant  of  Venice      .        51 

But  more  for  that,  in  low  simplicity, 

He  lends  out  money  gratis  and  brings  down 

The  rate  of  usance  here  with  us  in  Venice. 

If  I  can  catch  him  once  upon  the  hip, 

I  will  feed  fat  the  ancient  grudge  I  bear  him. 

He  hates  our  sacred  natipn  ;  and  he  rails, 

Even  there  where  merchants  most  do  congregate, 

On  me,  my  bargains,  and  my  well-won  thrift,  50 

Which  he  calls  interest.     Cursed  be  my  tribe 

If  I  forgive  him  1 

Bassanio.  Shylock,  do  you  hear  ? 

Shylock.   I  am  debating  of  my  present  store  ; 
And,  by  the  near  guess  of  my  memory, 
I  cannot  instantly  raise  up  the  gross 
Of  full  three  thousand  ducats.     What  of  that? 
Tubal,  a  wealthy  Hebrew  of  my  tribe, 
Will  furnish  me.     But  soft !  how  many  months 
Do  you   desire?  —  \To  Antonio]    Rest  you  fair,  good 

signior ; 
Your  worship  was  the  last  man  in  our  mouths.  6n 

Antonio.    Shylock,  albeit  I  neither  lend  nor  borrow 
By  taking  nor  by  giving  of  excess, 
Yet,  to  supply  the  ripe  Wants  of  my  friend, 
I  '11  break  a  custom.  —  Is  he  yet  possess'd 
How  much  you  would  ? 

Shylock.  Ay,  ay,  three  thousand  ducats. 

Antonio.   And  for  three  months. 

Shylock.  I  had  forgot, — three  months ;  you  told  me  so. 
Well  then,  your  bond  ;  and  let  me  see  —  but  hear  you : 


52  The  Merchant  of  Venice          [Act  i 

Methought  you  said  you  neither  lend  nor  borrow 
Upon  advantage. 

Antonio.  I  do  never  use  it.  70 

Shylock.     When    Jacob   graz'd    his    uncle    Laban's 

sheep  — 

This  Jacob  from  our  holy  Abram  was, 
As  his  wise  mother  wrought  in  his  behalf, 
The  third  possessor ;  ay,  he  was  the  third  — 

Antonio.   And  what  of  him  ?  did  he  take  interest  ? 

Shylock.    No,  not  take  interest,  not,  as  you  would  say, 
Directly  interest ;  mark  what  Jacob  did. 
When  Laban  and  himself  were  compromis'd 
That  all  the  eanlings  which  were  streak'd  and  pied 
Should  fall  as  Jacob's  hire,  So 

The  skilful  shepherd  pill'd  me  certain  wands 
And  stuck  them  up  before  the  fulsome  ewes, 
Who,  then  conceiving,  did  in  eaning  time 
Fall  parti-colour 'd  lambs  ;  and  those  were  Jacob's. 
This  was  a  way  to  thrive,  and  he  was  blest ; 
And  thrift  is  blessing,  if  men  steal  it  not. 

Antonio.  This  was  a  venture,  sir,  that  Jacob  served  for ; 
A  thing- not  in  his  power  to  bring  to  pass, 
But  sway'd  and  fashion 'd  byvthe  hand  of  heaven. 
Was  this  inserted  to  make  interest  good  ?  90 

Or  is  your  gold  and  silver  ewes  and  rams  ? 

Shy  lock.    I  cannot  tell ;  I  make  it  breed  as  fast.  — 
But  note  me,  signior. 

Antonio.  Mark  you  this,  Bassanio, 

The  devil  can  cite  Scripture  for  his  purpose. 


Scene  III]     The   Merchant  of  Venice  53 

An  evil  soul,  producing  holy  witness, 
Is  like  a  villain  with  a  smiling  cheek, 
A  goodly  apple  rotten  at  the  heart. 
O,  what  a  goodly  outside  falsehood  hath  I 

Shylock.    Three  thousand  ducats,  —  't  is  a  good  round 

sum.  99 

Three  months  from  twelve,  —  then,  let  me  see  the  rate. 

Antonio.    Well,  Shylock,  shall  we  be  beholding  to  you? 

Shy  lock.    Signior  Antonio,  many  a  time  and  oft, 
In  the  Rialto,  you  have  rated  me 
About  my  moneys  and  my  usances ; 
Still  have  I  borne  it  with  a  patient  shrug, 
For  sufferance  is  the  badge  of  all  our  tribe. 
You  call  me  misbeliever,  cut-throat  dog, 
And  spet  upon  my  Jewish  gaberdine, 
And  all  for  use  of  that  which  js  mine  own. 
Well  then,  it  now  appears  you  need  my  help.  no 

Go  to,  then ;  you  come  to  me,  and  you  say, 

*  Shylock,  we  would  have  moneys.'     You  say  so, 
You,  that  did  void  your  rheum  upon  my  beard, 
And  foot  me  as  you  spurn  a  stranger  cur 

Over  your  threshold  ;  moneys  is  your  suit. 

What  should  I  say  to  you  ?     Should  I  not  say, 

1  Hath  a  dog  money  ?     Is  it  possible 

A  cur  should  lend  three  thousand  ducats  ? '     Or 

Shall  I  bend  low,  and  in  a  bondman's  key, 

With  bated  breath  and  whispering  humbleness,  120 

Say  this : 

*  Fair  sir,  you  spet  on  me  on  Wednesday  last ; 


54  The  Merchant  of  Venice          [Act  i 

You  spurn'd  me  such  a  day  ;  another  time 
You  -call'd  me  dog ;  and  for  these  courtesies 
I  '11  lend  you  thus  much  moneys  ?  ' 

Antonio.    I  am  as  like  to  call  thee  so  again, 
To  spet  on  thee  again,  to  spurn  thee  too. 
If  thou  wilt  lend  this  money,  lend  it  not 
As  to  thy  friends  ;  for  when  did  friendship  take 
A  breed  of  barren  metal  of  his  friend  ?  130 

But  lend  it  rather  to  thine  enemy, 
Who  if  he  break,  thou  mayst  with  better  face 
Exact  the  penalty. 

Shy  lock.  Why,  look  you,  how  you  storm  I 

I  would  be  friends  with  you,  and  have  your  love, 
Forget  the  shames  that  you  have  stain 'd  me  with, 
Supply  your  present  wants,  and  take  no  dou 
Of  usance  for  my  moneys,  and  you  '11  not  hear  me. 
This  is  kind  I  offer. 

Bassanio.   This  were  kindness. 

Shylock.  This  kindness  will  I  show. 

Go  with  me  to  a  notary ;  seal  me  there  140 

Your  single  bond  ;  and,  in  a  merry  sport, 
If  you  repay  me  not  on  such  a  day, 
In  such  a  place,  such  sum  or  sums  as  are 
Express 'd  in  the  condition,  let  the  forfeit 
Be  nominated  for  an  equal  pound 
Of  your  fair  flesh,  to  be  cut  off  and  taken 
In  what  part  of  your  body  pleaseth  me. 

Antonio.    Content,  i'  faith ;  I  '11  seal  to  srch  a  bond, 
And  say  there  's  much  kindness  in  the  JVw  149 


Scene  ill]     The  Merchant  of  Venice  55 

Bassanio.   You  shall  not  seal  to  such  a  bond  for  me  ; 
I  '11  rather  dwell  in  my  necessity. 

Antonio.    Why,  fear  not,  man  ;  I  will  not  forfeit  it. 
Within  these  two  months  - —  that  's  a  month  before 
This  bond  expires  —  I  do  expect  return 
Of  thrice  three  times  the  value  of  this  bond. 

Shylock.   O  father  Abram  !  what  these  Christians  are 
Whose  own  hard  dealings  teaches  them  suspect 
The  thoughts  of  others  !  —  Pray  you,  tell  me  this : 
If  he  should  break  his  day,  what  should  I  gain 
By  the  exaction  of  the  forfeiture  ?  160 

A  pound  of  man's  flesh,  taken  from  a  man, 
Is  not  so  estimable,  profitable  neither, 
As  flesh  of  muttons,  beefs,  or  goats.     I  say, 
To  buy  his  favour  I  extend  this  friendship. 
If  he  will  take  it,  so ;  if  not,  adieu ; 
And,  for  my  love,  I  pray  you  wrong  me  not. 

Antonio.   Yes,  Shylock,  I  will  seal  unto  this  bond. 

Shylock.   Then  meet  me  forthwith  at  the  notary's. 
Give  him  direction  for  this  merry  bond, 
And  I  will  go  and  purse  the  ducats  straight,  170 

See  to  my  house,  left  in  the  fearful  guard 
Of  an  unthrifty  knave,  and  presently 
I  will  be  with  you.  [Exit. 

Antonio.  Hie  thee,  gentle  Jew.  — 

The  Hebrew  will  turn  Christian ;  he  grows  kind. 

Bassanio.    I  like  not  fair  terms  and  a  villain's  mind. 

Antonio.   Come  on :  in  this  there  can  be  no  dismay ; 
My  ships  come  home  a  month  before  the  day.     [Exeunt. 


VENICE 


ACT   II 

SCENE  I.     Belmont.     A  Room  in  Portia's  House 

Flourish  of  Cornets.  Enter  the  PRINCE  OF  MOROCCO 
and  his  train ;  PORTIA,  NERISSA,  and  others 
attending., 

Morocco.   Mislike  me  not  for  my  complexion, 
The  shadow'd  livery  of  the  burnish'd  sun, 
To  whom  I  am  a  neighbour  and  near  bred. 
Bring  me  the  fairest  creature  northward  born, 
Where  Phoebus'  fire  scarce  thaws  the  icicles, 
And  let  us  make  incision  for  your  love, 
To  prove  whose  blood  is  reddest,  his  or  mine. 
I  tell  thee,  lady,  this  aspect  of  mine 
Hath  fear'd  the  valiant ;  by  my  love,  I  swear 
The  best-regarded  virgins  of  our  clime  IQ 

56 


Scene  I]       The  Merchant  of  Venice  57 

Have  lov'd  it  too.     I  would  not  change  this  hue, 
Except  to  steal  your  thoughts,  my  gentle  queen. 

Portia.  In  terms  of  choice  I  am  not  solely  led 
By  nice  direction  of  a  maiden's  eyes ; 
Besides)  the  lottery  of  my  destiny 
Bars  me  the  right  of  voluntary  choosing ; 
But  if  my  father  had  not  scanted  me, 
And  hedg'd  me  by  his  wit,  to  yield  myself 
His  wife  who  wins  me  by  that  means  I  told  you, 
Yourself,  renowned  prince,  then  stood  as  fair  20 

As  any  comer  I  have  look'd  on  yet, 
For  my  affection. 

Morocco.  Even  for  that  I  thank  you ; 

Therefore,  I  pray  you,  lead  me  to  the  caskets 
To  try  my  fortune.      By  ;this  scimitar, 
That  slew  the  Sophy  and  a  Persian  prince 
That  won  three  fields  of  Sultan  Solyman, 
I  would  o'er-stare  the  sternest  eyes  that  look, 
Outbrave  the  heart  most  daring  on  the  earth, 
Pluck  the  young  sucking  cubs  from  the  she-bear, 
Yea,  mock  the  lion  when  he  roars  for  prey,  3c 

To  win  thee,  lady.     But,  alas  the  while ! 
If  Hercules  and  Lichas  play  at  dice 
Which  is  the  better  man,  the  greater  throw 
May  turn  by  fortune  from  the  weaker  hand. 
So  is  Alcides  beaten  by  his  page ; 
And  so  may  I,  blind  Fortune  leading  me, 
Miss  that  which  one  unworthier  may  attain, 
And  die  with  grieving. 


58  The  Merchant  of  Venice         [Act  n 

Portia.  You  must  take  your  chance, 

And  either  not  attempt  to  choose  at  all. 
Or  swear,  before  you  choose,  if  you  choose  wrong       40 
Never  to  speak  to  lady  afterward 
In  way  of  marriage  ;  therefore  be  advis'd. 

Morocco.  Nor  will  not.     Come,  bring   me  unto  my 
chance. 

Portia.     First,  forward  to  the  temple  ;  after  dinner 
Your  hazard  shall  be  made. 

Morocco.  Good  fortune  then, 

To  make  me  blest  or  cursed  'st  among  men  ! 

[Cornets^  and  exeunt. 


SCENE  II.      Venice.     A  Street 
Enter  LAUNCELOT 

Launcelot.  Certainly  my  conscience  will  serve  me 
to  run  from  this  Jew  my  master.  The  fiend  is  at  mine 
elbow  and  tempts  me,  saying  to  me, '  Gobbo,  Launce- 
lot Gobbo,  good  Launcelot,'  or  'good  Gobbo,'  or 
'  good  Launcelot  Gobbo,  use  your  legs,  take  the  start, 
run  away.'  My  conscience  says,  '  No ;  take  heed, 
honest  Launcelot;  take  heed,  honest  Gobbo,'  or,  as 
aforesaid,  '  honest  Launcelot  Gobbo ;  do  not  run ; 
scorn  running  with  thy  heels.'  Well,  the  most  cour- 
ageous fiend  bids  me  pack  :  '  Via  ! '  says  the  fiend ;  10 
1  away ! '  says  the  fiend  ;  l  for  the  heavens,  rouse  up 
a  brave  mind,'  says  the  fiend,  '  and  run.'  Well,  my 


Scene  II]       The   Merchant  of  Venice  59 

conscience,  hanging  about  the  neck  of  my  heart, 
says  very  wisely  to  me,  '  My  honest  friend  Launce- 
lot,  being  an  honest  man's  son,'  —  or  rather  an 
honest  woman's  son,  —  well,  my  conscience  says, 
1  Launcelot,  budge  not,'  *  Budge,'  says  the  fiend. 
1  Budge  not,'  says  my  conscience.  '  Conscience,' 
say  I,  'you  counsel  well;'  '  Fiend,'  say  I,  'you 
counsel  well.'  To  be  ruled  by  my  conscience,  1 20 
should  stay  with  the  Jew  my  master,  who,  God  bless 
the  mark,  is  a  kind  of  devil ;  and,  to  run  away  from 
the  Jew,  I  should  be  ruled  by  the  fiend,  who,  saving 
your  reverence,  is  the  devil  himself.  Certainly  the 
-  Jew  is  the  very  devil  incarnation ;  and,  in  my  con- 
science, my  conscience  is  a  kind  of  hard  conscience, 
to  offer  to  counsel  me  to  stay  with  the  Jew.  The 
fiend  gives  the  more  friendly  counsel.  I  will  run, 
fiend ;  my  heels  are  at  your  commandment ;  I  will 

run.  30 

Enter  Old  GOBBO,  with  a  basket 

Gobbo.  Master  young  man,  you !  I  pray  you, 
which  is  the  way  to  master  Jew's  ? 

Launcelot.  \Aside~\  O  heavens!  this  is  my  true- 
begotten  father,  who,  being  more  than  sand-blind, 
'  high-gravel-blind,  knows  me  not.  —  I  will  try  con- 
fusions with  him. 

Gobbo.  Master  young  gentleman,  I  pray  you, 
which  is  the  way  to  master  Jew's  ? 

Launcelot.  Turn  up  on  your  right  hand  at  the  next 
turning,  but  at  the  next  turning  of  all,  on  your  left ;  40 


60  The  Merchant  of  Venice         [Act  n 

marry,  at  the  very  next  turning,  turn  of  no  hand,  but 
turn  down  indirectly  to  the  Jew's  house. 

Gobbo.  By  God's  sonties,  't  will  be  a  hard  way  to 
hit.  Can  you  tell  me  whether  one  Launcelot,  that 
dwells  with  him,  dwell  with  him  or  no  ? 

Launcelot.    Talk  you  of  young  Master  Launcelot? 

—  [Aside]    Mark   me   now ;    now  will   I    raise   the 
waters.  —  [To   him]    Talk    you    of    young    Master 
Launcelot  ? 

Gobbo.    No  master,  sir,  but  a  poor  man's  son ;  his  50 
father,  though  I  say  't,  is  an  honest  exceeding  poor 
man,  and,  God  be  thanked,  well  to  live. 

Launeelot.  Well,  let  his  father  be  what  a'  will,  we 
talk  of  young  Master  Launcelot. 

Gobbo.   Your  worship's  friend  and  Launcelot. 

Launcelot.  But  I  pray  you,  ergo,  old  man,  ergo,  I 
beseech  you,  talk  you  of  young  Master  Launcelot  ? 

Gobbo.   Of  Launcelot,  an  't  please  your  mastership. 

Launcelot.  Ergo,  Master  Launcelot.  Talk  not  of 
Master  Launcelot,  father  ;  for  the  young  gentleman  60 

—  according  to  fates  and  destinies  and  such  odd 
sayings,  the  sisters  three  and  such  branches  of  learn- 
ing—  is  indeed  deceased,  or,  as  you  would  say  in 
plain  terms,  gone  to  heaven. 

Gobbo.  Marry,  God  forbid !  the  boy  was  the  very 
staff  of  my  age,  my  very  prop. 

Launcelot.  [Aside]  Do  I  look  like  a  cudgel  or  a 
hovel-post,  a  staff  or  a  prop  ?  [To  him]  Do  you  know 
me,  father? 


Scene  II]      The  Merchant  of  Venice  61 

Gobbo.   Alack  the  day !     I  know  you  not,  young  70 
gentleman;  but,  I  pray  you,  tell  me,  is  my  boy  — 
God  rest  his  soul !  —  alive  or  dead  ? 

Launcelot.    Do  you  not  know  me,  father  ? 

Gobbo.  Alack,  sir,  I  am  sand-blind ;  I  know  you 
not. 

Launcelot.  Nay,  indeed,  if  you  had  your  eyes,  you 
might  fail  of  the  knowing  me  ;  it  is  a  wise  father  that 
knows  his  own  child.  Well,  old  man,  I  will  tell  you 
news  of  your  son.  [Kneels.]  Give  me  your  bless- 
ing :  truth  will  come  to  light ;  murther  cannot  be  80 
hid  long;  a  man's  son  may,  but  in  the  end  truth 
will  out 

Gobbo.  Pray  you,  sir,  stand  up.  I  am  sure  you 
are  not  Launcelot,  my  boy. 

Launcelot.  Pray  you,  let's  have  no  more  fooling 
about  it,  but  give  me  your  blessing  ;  I  am  Launcelot, 
your  boy  that  was,  your  son  that  is,  your  child  that 
shall  be. 

Gobbo.    I  cannot  think  you  are  my  son. 

Launcelot.    I  know  not  what  I  shall  think  of  that ;  90 
but  I  am  Launcelot,  the  Jew's  man,  and  I  am  sure 
Margery  your  wife  is  my  mother. 

Gobbo.  Her  name  is  Margery,  indeed;  I  '11  be 
sworn,  if  thou  be  Launcelot,  thou  art  mine  own  flesh 
and  blood.  Lord  worshipped  might  he  be!  what  a 
beard  hast  thou  got !  thou  hast  got  more  hair  on  thy 
chin  than  Dobbin  my  fill-horse  has  on  his  tail. 

Launcelot.    It  should  seem,  then,  that  Dobbin's  tail 


62  The  Merchant  of  Venice  [Act  n 

grows  backward ;  I  am  sure  he  had  more  hair  of  his 
tail  than  I  have  of  my  face,  when  I  last  saw  him.        100 

Gobbo.  Lord !  how  art  thou  changed  !  How  dost 
thou  and  thy  master  agree  ?  I  have  brought  him  a 
present.  How  gree  you  now  ? 

Launcelot.  Well,  well ;  but,  for  mine  own  part,  as 
I  have  set  up  my  rest  to  run  away,  so  I  will  not  rest 
till  I  have  run  sonte  ground.  My  master's  a  very 
Jew ;  give  him  a  present !  give  him  a  halter.  I  am 
famished  in  his  service  ;  you  may  tell  every  finger  I 
have  with  my  ribs.  Father,  I  am  glad  you  are  come. 
Give  me  your  present  to  one  Master  Bassanio,  who  no 
indeed  gives  rare  new  liveries ;  if  I  serve  not  him,  I 
will  run  as  far  as  God  has  any  ground.  —  O  rare 
fortune!  here  comes  the  man.  —  To  him,  father; 
for  I  am  a  Jew  if  I  serve  the  Jew  any  longer. 

Enter  BASSANIO,  with  LEONARDO  and  other  followers 

Bassanio.  You  may  do  so ;  but  let  it  be  so  hasted 
that  supper  be  ready  at  the  farthest  by  five  of  the 
clock.  See  these  letters  delivered ;  put  the  liveries 
tc  making,  and  desire  Gratiano  to  come  anon  to 
my  lodging.  [Exit  a  Servant. 

Launcelot.   To  him,  father.  *2o 

Gobbo.   God  bless  your  worship ! 

Bassanio.   Gramercy !  wouldst  thou  aught  with  me  ? 

Gobbo.   Here's  my  son,  sir,  a  poor  boy, — 

Launcelot.  Not  a  poor  boy,  sir,  but  the  rich  Jew's 
man ;  that  would,  sir,  as  my  father  shall  specify,  — 


Scene  II]      The  Merchant  of  Venice  63 

Gobbo.  He  hath  a  great  infection,  sir,  as  one 
would  say,  to  serve  — 

Launcelot.  Indeed,  the  short  and  the  long  is,  I 
serve  the  Jew,  and  have  a  desire,  as  my  father  shall 
specify,  —  130 

Gobbo.  His  master  and  he,  saving  your  worship's 
reverence,  are  scarce  cater-cousins  — 

Launcelot.  To  be  brief,  the  very  truth  is,  that  the 
Jew,  having  done  me  wrong,  doth  cause  me,  as  my 
father,  being,  I  hope,  an  old  man,  shall  frutify  unto 
you,— 

Gobbo.  I  have  here  a  dish  of  doves  that  I  would 
bestow  upon  your  worship;  and  my  suit  is  — 

Launcelot.    In  very  brief,  the  suit  is  impertinent v 
to  myself,  as  your  worship  shall  know  by  this  honest  140 
old  man ;  and,  though  I  say  it,  though  old  man,  yet, 
poor  man,  my  father. 

Bassanio.   One  speak  for  both.  —  What  would  you  ? 

Launcelot.    Serve  you,  sir. 

Gobbo.   That  is  the  very  defect  of  the  matter,  sir. 

Bassanio.    I  know  thee  well;   thog  hast  obtain 'd 

thy  suit. 

Shylock  thy  master  spoke  with  me  this  day, 
And  hath  preferr'd  thee ;  if  it  be  preferment 
To  leave  a  rich  Jew's  service,  to  become 
The  follower  of  so  poor  a  gentleman.  150 

Launcelot.  The  old  proverb  is  very  well  parted 
between  my  master  Shylock  and  you,  sir ;  you  have 
the  grace  of  God,  sir,  and  he  hath  enough. 


64  The  Merchant  of  Venice  [Act  n 

Bassanio.   Thou    speak'st    it  well.  —  Go,   father, 

with  thy  son. — 

Take  leave  of  thy  old  master,  and  inquire 
My  lodging  out.  —  Give  him  a  livery      \To  his  followers \ 
More  guarded  than  his  fellows' ;  see  it  done. 

Launcelot.    Father,  in.  —  I  cannot  get  a  service,  no ; 
I  have  ne'er  a  tongue  in  my  head.  —  Well,  if  any 
man  in  Italy  have  a  fairer  table  which  doth  offer  160 
to  swear  upon  a  book !  —  I  shall  have  good  fortune. 

—  Go  to,  here's  a  simple  line  of  life  1  here's  a  small 
trifle  of  wives :  alas  !  fifteen  wives  is  nothing !  aleven 
widows  and  nine  maids  is  a  simple  coming-in  for  one 
man ;  and  then  to  scape  drowning  thrice,  and  to  be 
in  peril  of  my  life  with  the  edge  of  a  feather-bed, 

—  here  are  simple  scapes.     Well,  if   Fortune  be  a 
woman,  she  's  a  good  wench  for  this  gear.  —  Father, 
come ;  I  '11  take  my  leave  of  the  Jew  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye.  [Exeunt  Launcelot  and  Old  Gobbo. 

Bassanio.   I  pray  thee,  good  Leonardo,  think  on 

this.  171 

These  things  being  bought  and  orderly  bestow'd, 
Return  in  haste,  for  I  do  feast  to-night 
My  best-esteem 'd  acquaintance;  hie  thee,  go. 

Leonardo.    My  best   endeavours    shall    be    done 
herein. 

Enter  GRATIANO 

Gratiano.    Where  is  your  master  ? 

Leonardo.  Yonder,  sir,  he  walks.      \Exit, 

Gratiano.    Signior  Bassanio  I 


Scene  ii]      The  Merchant  of  Venice  65 

Bassanio.    Gratiano  I 

Gratiano.    I  have  a  suit  to  you. 

Bassanio.  You  have  obtained  it. 

Gratiano.  You   must   not   deny  me.     I  must  goiSo 
with  you  to  Belmont. 

Bassanio.  Why,  then  you  must.     But  hear  thee, 

Gratiano : 

Thou  art  too  wild,  too  rude,  and  bold  of  voice,  — 
Parts  that  become  thee  happily  enough 
And  in  such  eyes  as  ours  appear  not  faults ; 
But  where  they  are  not  known,  why,  there  they  show 
Something  too  liberal.     Pray  thee,  take  pain 
To  allay  with  some  cold  drops  of  modesty 
Thy  skipping  spirit,  lest  through  thy  wild  behaviour 
I  be  misconstrued  in  the  place  I  go  to,  190 

And  lose  my  hopes. 

Gratiano.  Signior  Bassanio,  hear  me  : 

If  I  do  not  put  on  a  sober  habit, 
Talk  with  respect,  and  swear  but  now  and  then, 
Wear  prayer-books  in  my  pocket,  look  demurely, 
Nay  more,  while  grace  is  saying,  hood  mine  eyes 
Thus  with  my  hat,  and  sigh,  and  say  '  amen/ 
Use  all  the  observance  of  civility, 
Like  one  well  studied  in  a  sad  ostent 
To  please  his  grandam,  never  trust  me  more. 

Bassanio.  Well,  we  shall  see  your  bearing.  200 

Gratiano.  Nay,  but  I  bar  to-night ;  you  shall  not 

gauge  me 
By  what  we  do  to-night. 

MER.   OF  YEN.  —  5 


66  The  Merchant  of  Venice  [Act  n 

Bassanio.  No,  that  were  pity ; 

I  would  entreat  you  rather  to  put  on 
Your  boldest  suit  of  mirth,  for  we  have  friends 
That  purpose  merriment.     But  fare  you  well ; 
I  have  some  business. 

Gratiano.  And  I  must  to  Lorenzo  and  the  rest; 
But  we  will  visit  you  at  supper-time.  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  III.     The  Same.    A  Room  in  Shyloctfs  House 
Enter  JESSICA  and  LAUNCELOT 

Jessica.  I  am  sorry  thou  wilt  leave  my  father  so ; 
Our  house  is  hell,  and  thou,  a  merry  devil, 
Didst  rob  it  of  some  taste  of  tediousness. 
But  fare  thee  well ;  there  is  a  ducat  for  thee. 
And,  Launcelot,  soon  at  supper  shalt  thou  see 
Lorenzo,  who  is  thy  new  master's  guest. 
Give  him  this  letter ;  do  it  secretly. 
And  so  farewell ;  I  would  not  have  my  father 
See  me  in  talk  with  thee. 

Launcelot.  Adieu  !  tears  exhibit  my  tongue.    Most  10 
beautiful  pagan,  most  sweet  Jew,  adieu !  these  fool- 
ish drops   do   somewhat  drown   my   manly   spirit; 
adieu ! 

Jessica.  Farewell,  good  Launcelot.  — 

[Exit  Launcelot. 

Alack,  whar heinous  sin  is  it  in  me 
To  be  asham'd  to  be  my  father's  child ! 
But  though  I  am  a  daughter  to  his  blood, 


Scene  IV]      The   Merchant  of  Venice  67 

I  am  not  to  his  manners.     O  Lorenzo, 

If  thou  keep  promise,  I  shall  end  this  strife, 

Become  a  Christian  and  thy  loving  wife  !  \Exit.  20 


SCENE  IV.     The  Same.     A  Street 
Enter  GRATIANO,  LORENZO,  SALARINO,  and  SALANIO 

Lorenzo.  Nay,  we  will  slink  away  in  supper-time, 
Disguise  us  at  my  lodging,  and  return, 
All  in  an  hour. 

Gratiano.  We  have  not  made  good  preparation. 
Salarino.  We   have   not   spoke    us  yet  of   torch- 
bearers. 
Salanio.    'T  is    vile    unless    it    may   be    quaintly 

order'd, 
And  better,  in  my  mind,  not  undertook. 

Lorenzo.  'T  is  now  but  four  o'clock ;  we  have  two 

hours 
To  furnish  us,,  — 

Enter  LAUNCELOT,  with  a  letter 

Friend  Launcelot,  what 's  the  news  ? 
Launcelot.  An  it    shall  please  you    to  break  up  10 
this,  it  shall  seem  to  signify. 

Lorenzo.   I  know  the  hand.     In  faith,  \  is  a  fair 

hand ; 

And  whiter  than  the  paper  it  writ  on 
Is  the  fair  hand  that  writ 


68  The  Merchant  of  Venice  [Act  II 

Gratiano.  Love-news,  in  faith. 

Launcelot.    By  your  leave,  sir. 

Lorenzo.    Whither  goest  thou  ? 

Launcelot.    Marry,  sir,  to  bid  my  old  master  the 
Jew  to  sup  to-night  with  my  new  master  the  Christian. 

Lorenzo.  Hold  here,  take  this. — Tell  gentle  Jessica 
I  will  not  fail  her  ;  —  speak  it  privately.  20 

Go.  —  Gentlemen,  \Exit  Launcelot. 

Will  you  prepare  you  for  this  masque  to-night  ? 
I  am  provided  of  a  torch-bearer. 

Salarino.   Ay,  marry,  I  '11  be  gone  about  it  straight 

Salanio.    And  so  will  I. 

Lorenzo.  Meet  me  and  Gratiano 

At  Gratiano 's  lodging  some  hour  hence. 

Salarino.    'T  is  good  we  do  so. 

\Exeunt  Salarino  and  Salanio. 

Gratiano.    Was  not  that  letter  from  fair  Jessica  ? 

Lorenzo.   I  must  needs  tell  thee  all.      She  hath 

directed 

How  I  shall  take  her  from  her  father's  house,  30 

What  gold  and  jewels  she  is  furnish 'd  with, 
What  page's  suit  she  hath  in  readiness. 
If  e'er  the  Jew  her  father  come  to  heaven, 
It  will  be  for  his  gentle  daughter's  sake ; 
And  never  dare  Misfortune  cross  her  foot, 
Unless  she  do  it  under  this  excuse, 
That  she  is  issue  to  a  faithless  Jew. 
Come,  go  with  me  ;  peruse  this  as  thou  goest. 
Fair  Jessica  shall  be  my  torch-bearer.  \Exeunt. 


Scene  V]       The  Merchant  of  Venice  69 

SCENE  V.     The  Same.     Before  ShylocVs  House 
Enter  SHYLOCK  and  LAUNCELOT 

Sky  lock.   Well,  thou  shalt  see ;  thy  eyes  shall  be 

thy  judge, 

The  difference  of  old  Shylock  and  Bassanio.  — 
What,  Jessica  !  —  thou  shalt  not  gormandize, 
As  thou  hast  done  with  me,  —  what,  Jessica !  — 
And  sleep  and  snore,  and  rend  apparel  out  — 
Why,  Jessica,  I  say  1 

Launcelot.  Why,  Jessica ! 

Shylock.   Who  bids  thee  call  ?     I  do  not  bid  thee 
call. 

Launcelot.   Your  worship  was  wont  to  tell  me  I 
could  do  nothing  without  bidding. 

Enter  JESSICA 

Jessica.    Call  you  ?  what  is  your  will  ?  10 

Shylock.    I  am  bid  forth  to  supper.  Jessica ; 
There  are  my  keys.  —  But  wherefore  should  I  go  ? 
I  am  not  bid  for  love,  they  flatter  me ; 
But  yet  I  '11  go  in  hate,  to  feed  upon 
The  prodigal  Christian.  —  Jessica,  my  girl, 
Look  to  my  house.  —  I  am  right  loath  to  go  ; 
There  is  some  ill  a-brewing  towards  my  rest, 
For  I  did  dream  of  money-bags  to-night. 

Launcelot.    I    beseech    you,  sir,    go ;    my    young 
master  doth  expect  your  reproach.  20 

Shylock.    So  d*>  I  his. 


70  The  Merchant  of  Venice          [Act  II 

Launcelot.  And  they  have  conspired  together ;  — 
I  will  not  say  you  shall  see  a  masque  ;  but'if  you  do, 
then  it  was  not  for  nothing  that  my  nose  fell  a-bleed- 
ing.on  Black-Monday  last  at  six  o'clock  i'  the  morn- 
ing, falling  out  that  year  on  Ash-Wednesday  was  four 
year  in  the  afternoon. 

Shylock.   What !  are  there  masques  ?  —  Hear  you 

me,  Jessica : 

Lock  up  my  doors  ;  and  when  you  hear  the  drum 
And  the  vile  squealing  of  the  wry-neck'd  fife,  30 

Clamber  not  you  up  to  the  casements  then, 
Nor  thrust  your  head  into  the  public  street 
To  gaze  on  Christian  fools  with  varnish 'd  faces, 
But  stop  my  house's  ears,  —  I  mean  my  casements ; 
Let  not  the  sound  of  shallow  foppery  enter 
My  sober  house.  —  By  Jacob's  staff,  I  swear, 
I  have  no  mind  of  feasting  forth  to-night ; 
But  I  will  go.  —  Go  you  before  me,  sirrah  ; 
Say  I  will  come. 

Launcelot.    I  will  go  before,  sir.  —  Mistress,  look  ou\ 
at  window,  for  all  this :  41 

There  will  come  a  Christian  by, 
Will  be  worth  a  Jewess'  eye.  [Exit. 

Shylock.   What  says  that  fool  of  Hagar's  offspring,  har 

Jessica.   His  words  were  *  Farewell,  mistress  ; '  noth- 
ing else. 

Shylock.   The   patch   is   kind    enough,   but  a  huge 

feeder ; 
Snail-slow  in  profit,  and  he  sleeps  by  day 


Scene  vi]     The  Merchant  of  Venice  71 

More  than  the  wild-cat.     Drones  hive  not  with  me ; 

Therefore  I  part  with  him,  and  part  with  him 

To  one  that  I  would  have  him  help  to  waste  50 

His  borrow'd  purse.  —  Well,  Jessica,  go  in ; 

Perhaps  I  will  return  immediately. 

Do  as  I  bid  you ;  shut  doors  after  you. 

Fast  bind,  fast  find  ; 

A  proverb  never  stale  in  thrifty  mind.  [Exit. 

Jessica.    Farewell ;  and  if  my  fortune  be  not  crost, 
I  have  a  father,  you  a  daughter,  lost.  [Exit. 

SCENE  VI.     The  Same 
Enter  GRATIANO  and  SALARINO,  masqued 

Gratiano.  This  is  the  pent-house  under  which  Lorenzo 
Desir'd  us  to  make  stand. 

Salarino.  His  hour  is  almost  past. 

Gratiano.   And  it  is  marvel  he  outd wells  his  hour,  . 
For  lovers  ever  run  before  the  clock. 

Salarino.  O,  ten  times  faster  Venus'  pigeons  fly 
To  seal  love's  bonds  new-made  than  they  are  wont 
To  keep  obliged  faith  unforfeited ! 

Gratiano.   That  ever  holds.     Who  riseth  from  a  feast 
With  that  keen  appetite  that  he  sits  down  ? 
Where  is  the  horse  that  doth  untread  again  10 

His  tedious  measures  with  the  unbated  fire 
That  he  did  pace  them  first  ?     All  things  that  are 
Are  with  more  spirit  chased  than  enjoy'd. 
How  like  a  younger  or  a  prodigal, 


72  The  Merchant  of  Venice          [Act  n 

The  scarfed  bark  puts  from  her  native  bay, 
Hugg'd  and  embraced  by  the  strumpet  wind ! 
How  like  the  prodigal  doth  she  return, 
With  over-weather 'd  ribs  and  ragged  sails, 
Lean,  rent,  and  beggar'd  by  the  strumpet  wind ! 

Salarino.    Here    comes    Lorenzo.  —  More    of   this 
hereafter.  ,       2o 

Enter  LORENZO 

Lorenzo.    Sweet  friends,  your  patience  for  my  long 

abode ; 

Not  I,  but  my  affairs,  have  made  you  wait.  v 
When  you  shall  please  to  play  the  thieves  for  wives, 
I  '11  watch  as  long  for  you  then.  —  Approach ; 
Here  dwells  my  father  Jew.  —  Ho !  who  's  within  ? 

Enter  JESSICA,  above,  in  boy's  clothes 

Jessica.   Who  are  you  ?     Tell  me,  for  more  certainty, 
Albeit  I  '11  swear  that  I  do  know  your  tongue. 

'Lorenzo.   Lorenzo,  and  thy  love. 

Jessica.   Lorenzo,  certain  ;  and  my  love  indeed, 
For  who  love  I  so  much  ?     And  now  who  knows          30 
But  you,  Lorenzo,  whether  I  am  yours  ? 

Lorenzo.   Heaven  and  thy  thoughts  are  witness  that 
thou  art. 

Jessica.   Here,  catch  this  casket ;  it  is  worth  the  pains. 
I  am  glad  \  is  night,  you  do  not  look  on  me, 
For  I  am  much  asham'd  of  my  exchange. 
But  love  is  blind,  and  lovers  cannot  see 


Scene  vi]      The  Merchant  of  Venice  73 

The  pretty  follies  that  themselves  commit ; 
For  if  they  could,  Cupid  himself  would  blush 
To  see  me  thus  transformed  to  a  boy. 

Lorenzo.    Descend,     for    you    must    be    my    torch- 
bearer.  40 

Jessica.   What,  must  I  hold  a  candle  to  my  shames? 
They  in  themselves,  'good  sooth,  are  too-too  light. 
Why,  't  is  an  office  of  discovery,  love, 
And  I  should  be  obscur'd. 

Lorenzo.  So  are  you,  sweet, 

Even  in  the  lovely  garnish  of  a  boy. 
But  come  at  once ; 

(  For  the  close  night  doth  play  the  runaway, 
Antt  we  are  stay'd  for  at  Bassanio's  feast. 

Jessica.   I  will  make  fast  the  doors,  and  gild  myself 
With  some  more  ducats,  and  be  with  you  straight.       50 

[Exit  above. 

Gratiano.   Now,  by  my  hood,  a  Gentile  and  no  Jew. 

Lorenzo.    Beshrew  me  but  I  love  her  heartily  1 
For  she  is  wise,  if  I  can  judge  of  her ; 
And  fair  she  is,  if  that  mine  eyes  be  true ; 
And  true  she  is,  as  she  hath  prov'd  herself ; 
And  therefore,  like  herself,  wise,  fair,  and  true, 
Shall  she  be  placed  in  my  constant  soul.  — 

Enter  JESSICA,  below 

What,  art  thou  come  ?  —  On,  gentlemen ;  away  I 
Our  masquing  mates  by  this  time  for  us  stay. 

[Exit  with  Jessica  and  Salarino* 


74  The  Merchant  of  Venice         [Act  n 

V 

Enter  ANTONIO 

Antonio.   Who  's  there  ?  60 

Gratiano.    Signior  Antonio ! 

Antonio.    Fie,  fie,  Gratiano  !  where  are  all  the  rest? 
'T  is  nine  o'clock ;  our  friends  all  stay  for  you. 
No  masque  to-night :  the  wind  is  come  about ; 
Bassanio  presently  will  go  aboard. 
I  have  sent  twenty  out  to  seek  for  you. 

Gratiano.   I  am  glad  on  't ;  I  desire  no  more  delight 
Than  to  be  under  sail  and  gone  to-night.  [Exeunt. 

SCENE  VII.     Belmont.    ,A-  Room  in  Portia's  House 

Flourish  of  cornets.     Enter  PORTIA,  with  the  PRINCE  OF 
MOROCCO,  and  their  trains 

Portia.   Go,  draw  aside  the  curtains,  and  discover 
The  several  caskets  to  this  noble  prince. — 
Now  make  your  choice. 

Morocco.   The  first,  of  gold,  who  this  inscription  bears, 
'  Who  chooseth  me  shall  gain  what  many  men  desire? 
The  second,  silver,  which  this  promise  carries, 

*  Who  chooseth  me  shall  get  as  much  as  he  deserves.^ 
This  third,  dull  lead,  with  warning  all  as  blunt, 

*  Who  chooseth  me  must  give  and  hazard  all  he  hath? 
How  shall  I  know  if  I  do  choose  the  right  ?  10 

Portia.    The  one  of  them  contains  my  picture,  prince  ; 
If  you  choose  that,  then  I  am  yours  withal. 

Morocco.   Some  god  direct  my  judgment !   Let  me  see  ; 


Scene  VII]    The  Merchant  of  Venice  75 

I  will  survey  the  inscriptions  back  again. 

What  says  this  leaden  casket  ? 

'  Who  chooseth  me  must  give  and  hazard  all  he  hath? 

Must  give  —  for  what  ?     For  lead  ?     Hazard  for  lead  ? 

This  casket  threatens.     Men  that  hazard  all 

Do  it  in  hope  of  fair  advantages. 

A  golden  mind  stoops  not  to  shows  of  dross ;  20 

I  '11  then  jior  give  nor  hazard  aught  for  lead. 

What  says  the  silver  with  her  virgin  hue  ? 

'  Who  chooseth  me  shall  get  as  much  as  he  deserves? 

As  much  as  he  deserves  ?     Pause  there,  Morocco, 

And  weigh  thy  value  with  an  even  hand. 

If  thou  be'st  rated  by  thy  estimation, 

Thou  dost  deserve  enough  ;  and  yet  enough 

May  not  extend  so  far  as  to  the  lady ; 

And  yet  to  be  afeard  of  my  deserving 

Were  but  a  weak  disabling  of  myself.  30 

As  much  as  I  deserve  ?     Why,  that 's  the  lady : 

I  do  in  birth  deserve  her,  and  in  fortunes, 

In  graces  and  in  qualities  of  breeding ; 

But  more  than  these,  in  love  I  do  deserve. 

What  if  I  stray'd  no  further,  but  chose  here  ?  — 

Let 's  see  once  more  this  saying  grav'd  in  gold : 

'  Who  chooseth  me  shall  gain  what  many  men  desire? 

Why,  that 's  the  lady :  all  the  world  desires  her ; 

From  the  four  corners  of  the  earth  they  come, 

To  kiss  this  shrine,  this  mortal-breathing  saint.  40 

The  Hyrcanian  deserts  and  the  vasty  wilds 

Of  wide  Arabia  are  as  throughfares  now 


76  The  Merchant  of  Venice         [Act  n 

For  princes  to  come  view  fair  Portia. 
The  watery  kingdom,  whose  ambitious  head 
Spets  in  the  face  of  heaven,  is  no  bar 
To  stop  the  foreign  spirits,  but  they  come, 
As  o'er  a  brook,  to  see  fair  Portia. 
One  of  these  three  contains  her  heavenly  picture. 
Is  't  like  that  lead  contains  her  ?     'T  were  damnation 
To  think  so  base  a  thought ;  it  were  too  gross  50 

To  rib  her  cerecloth  in  the  obscure  grave. 
Or  shall  I  think  in  silver  she  's  immur'd, 
Being  ten  times  undervalued  to  tried  gold  ? 
O  sinful  thought  1     Never  so  rich  a  gem 
Was  set  in  worse  than  gold.     They  have  in  England 
A  coin  that  bears  the  figure  of  an  angel 
Stamped  in  gold,  but  that 's  insculp'd  upon ; 
But  here  an  angel  in  a  golden  bed 
Lies  all  within.  —  Deliver  me  the  key ; 
Here  do  I  choose,  and  thrive  I  as  I  may  1  60 

Portia.  There,  take  it,  prince ;  and  if  my  form  lie 

there, 
Then  I  am  yours.  \He  unlocks  the  golden  casket, 

Morocco.  O  hell !  what  have  we  here  ? 

A  carrion  death,  within  whose  empty  eye 
There  is  a  written  scroll !     I  '11  read  the  writing. 

'All  that  glisters  is  not  gold ; 

Often  have  you  heard  that  told. 

Many  a  man  his  life  hath  sold. 

But  my  outside  to  behold ; 

Gilded  tombs  do  worms  infold. 


hcene  viii]    The  Merchant  of  Venice  77 

Had  you  been  as  wise  as  bold,  70 

Young  in  limbs,  in  judgment  old. 
Your  answer  had  not  been  inscrolVd: 
Fare  you  well ;  your  suit  is  cold.' 
Cold,  indeed,  and  labour  lost ; 
Then,  farewell,  heat,  and  welcome,  frost  I 
Portia,  adieu  !     I  have  too  griev'd  a  heart 
To  take  a  tedious  leave ;  thus  losers  part. 

[Exit  with  his  train. 

Portia.  A  gentle  riddance.  —  Draw  the  curtains  ;  go. 
Let  all  of  his  complexion  choose  me  so. 

[Exeunt.     Flourish  of  cornets. 

SCENE  VIII.      Venice.     A  Street 
Enter  SALARINO  and  SALANIO 

Salarino.  Why,  man,  I  saw  Bassanio  under  sail; 
With  him  is  Gratiano  gone  along, 
And  in  their  ship  I  am  sure  Lorenzo  is  not. 

Salanio.  The  villain  Jew  with  outcries  rais'd  the  duke, 
Who  went  with  him  to  search  Bassanio's  ship. 

Salarino.   He  came  too  late,  the  ship  was  under  sail ; 
But  there  the  duke  was  given  to  understand 
That  in  a  gondola  were  seen  together 
Lorenzo  and  his  amorous  Jessica. 
Besides,  Antonio  certified  the  duke  »o 

They  were  not  with  Bassanio  in  his  ship. 

Salanio.  I  never  heard  a  passion  so  confus'd, 
So  strange,  outrageous,  and  so  variable, 


7 8  The  Merchant  of  Venice          [Act  n 

As  the  dog  Jew  did  utter  in  the  streets : 

'  My  daughter  1     O  my  ducats  !     O  my  daughter  I 

Fled  with  a  Christian  !     O  my  Christian  ducats  ! 

Justice  !  the  law  !  my  ducats,  and  my  daughter ! 

A  sealed  bag,  two  sealed  bags  of  ducats, 

Of  double  ducats,  stolen  from  me  by  my  daughter ! 

And  jewels,  two  stones,  two  rich  and  precious  stones,  20 

Stolen  by  my  daughter  !     Justice  !  find  the  girl ; 

She  hath  the  stones  upon  her,  and  the  ducats.' 

Salarino.    Why,  all  the  boys  in  Venice  follow  him, 
Crying,  his  stones,  his  daughter,  and  his  ducats. 

Salanio.   Let  good  Antonio  look  he  keep  his  day, 
Or  he  shall  pay  for  this. 

Salarino.  Marry,  well  remember'd. 

I  reason 'd  with  a  Frenchman  yesterday, 
Who  told  me,  in  the  narrow  seas  that  part 
The  French  and  English,  there  miscarried 
A  vessel  of  our  country  richly  fraught.  30 

I  thought  upon  Antonio  when  he  told  me, 
And  wish'd  in  silence  that  it  were  not  his. 

Salanio.  You  were  best  to  tell  Antonio  what  you  hear ; 
Yet  do  not  suddenly,  for  it  may  grieve  him. 

Salarino.    A  kinder  gentleman  treads  not  the  earth, 
I  saw  Bassanio  and  Antonio  part. 
Bassanio  told  him  he  would  make  some  speed 
Of  his  return  ;  he  answer'd,  '  Do  not  so  ; 
Slubber  not  business  for  my  sake,  Bassanio, 
But  stay  the  very  riping  of  the  time  ;  40 

And  for  the  Jew's  bond  which  he  hath  of  me, 


Scene  IX]      The  Merchant  of  Venice  79 

Let  it  not  enter  in  your  mind  of  love. 

Be  merry,  and  employ  your  chiefest  thoughts 

To  courtship  and  such  fair  ostents  of  love 

As  shall  conveniently  become  you  there.' 

And  even  there,  his  eye  being  big  with  tears, 

Turning  his  face,  he  put  his  hand  behind  him,  . 

And  with  affection  wondrous  sensible 

He  wrung  Bassanio's  hand ;  and  so  they  parted. 

Salanio.    I  think  he  only  loves  the  world  for  him.     50 
I  pray  thee,  let  us  go  and  find  him  out, 
And  quicken  his  embraced  heaviness 
With  some  delight  or  other. 

Salarino.  Do  we  so.  \Exeunt. 

SCENE  IX.     Belmont.     A  Room  in  Portia's  House 
Enter  NERISSA  with  a  Servitor 

Nerissa.   Quick,  quick,  I  pray  thee  ;  draw  the  curtain 

straight. 

The  Prince  of  Arragon  hath  ta'en  his  oath, 
And  comes  to  his  election  presently. 

Flourish  of  cornets.     Enter  the  PRINCE  OF  ARRAGON, 
PORTIA,  and  their  trains 

Portia.  Behold,  there  stand  the  caskets,  noble  prince. 
If  you  choose  that  wherein  I  am  contain 'd, 
Straight  shall  our  nuptial  rites  be  solemniz'd ; 
But  if  you  fail,  without  more  speech,  my  lord, 
You  must  be  gone  from  hence  immediately. 


8o  The  Merchant  of  Venice         [Act  n 

Arragon.    I  am  enjoin'd  by  oath  to  observe  three 

things : 

First,  never  to  unfold  to  any  one  10 

Which  casket  't  was  I  chose  ;  next,  if  I  fail    - 
Of  the  right  casket,  never  in  my  life 
To  woo  a  maid  in  way  of  marriage  ; 
Lastly,  if  I  do  fail  in  fortune  of  my  choice, 
Immediately  to  leave  you  and  be  gone. 

Portia.    To  these  injunctions  every  one  doth  swear 
That  comes  to  hazard  for  my  worthless  self. 

Arragon.    And  so  have  I  address 'd  me.     Fortune  now 
To  my  heart's  hope  !  —  Gold,  silver,  and  base  lead. 
1  Who  choose th  me  must  give  and  hazard  all  he  hath.'1     20 
You  shall  look  fairer  ere  I  give  or  hazard. 
What  says  the  golden  chest  ?  ha  !  let  me  see : 
'  Who  chooseth  me  shall  gain  what  many  men  desire? 
What  many  men  desire  !  that  many  may  be  meant 
By  the  fool  multitude  that  choose  by  show, 
Not  learning  more  than  the  fond  eye  doth  teach ; 
Which  pries  not  to  the  interior,  but,  like  the  martlet, 
Builds  in  the  weather,  on  the  outward  wall, 
Even  in  the  force  and  road  of  casualty. 
I  will  not  choose  what  many  men  desire,  30 

Because  I  will  not  jump  with  common  spirits 
And  rank  me  with  the  barbarous  multitudes. 
Why,  then  to  thee,  thou  silver  treasure-house ; 
Tell  me  once  more  what  title  thou  dost  bear : 
'  Who  chooseth  me  shall  get  as  much  as  he  deserves :  * 
And  well  said  too ;  for  who  shall  go  about 


Scene  IX]     The  Merchant  of  Venice  81 

To  cozen  fortune  and  be  honourable 

Without  the  stamp  pf  merit  ?     Let  none  presume 

To  wear  an  undeserved  dignity. 

O,  that  estates,  degrees,  and  offices  4* 

Were  not  deriv'd  corruptly,  and  that  clear  honour 

Were  purchased  by  the  merit  of  the  wearer ! 

How  many  then  should  cover  that  stand  bare  1 

How  many  be  commanded  that  command ! 

How  much  low  peasantry  would  then  be  glean 'd 

From  the  true  seed  of  honour ;  and  how  much  honour 

Pick'd  from  the  chaff  and  ruin  of  the  times, 

To  be  new- varnish 'd  !     Well,  but  to  my  choice  : 

'  Who  chooseth  me  shall  get  as  much  as  he  deserves? 

I  will  assume  desert.  —  Give  me  a  key  for  this,  50 

And  instantly  unlock  my  fortunes  here. 

\He  opens  the  silver  casket. 

Portia.    Too  long  a  pause  for  that  which  you  find 
there. 

Arragon.   What's  here  ?    the  portrait  of  a  blinking 

idiot, 

Presenting  me  a  schedule !     I  will  read  it. 
How  much  unlike  art  thou  to  Portia ! 
How  much  unlike  my  hopes  and  my  deservings ! 
'  Who  chooseth  me  shall  have  as  much  as  he  deserves? 
Did  I  deserve  no  more  than  a  fool's  head  ? 
Is  that  my  prize  ?  are  my  deserts  no  better  ? 

Portia.    To  offend  and  judge  are  distinct  offices,      60 
And  of  opposed  natures. 

Arragon.  What  is  here  ? 

MER.   OF  VEN. — 6 


82  The  Merchant  of  Venice         [Act  II 

*  The  fire  seven  times  tried  this  ; 
Seven  times  tried  that  judgment  is. 
That  did  never  choose  amiss. 
Some  there  be  that  shadows  kiss  ; 
Such  have  but  a  shadow  V  bliss. 
There  be  fools  alive ,  I  wis^ 
Silver*  d  o' er  ;  and  so  was  this. 
Take  what  wife  you  will  to  bed, 
I  will  ever  be  your  head.  70 

So  be  gone  ;  you  are  sped? 
Still  more  fool  I  shall  appear 
By  the  time  I  linger  here ; 
With  one  fool's  head  I  came  to  woo, 
But  I  go  away  with  two.  — 
Sweet,  adieu !     I  '11  keep  my  oath, 
Patiently  to  bear  my  wroth. 

\Exeunt  Arragon  and  train. 
Portia.    Thus  hath  the  candle  sing'd  the  moth. 
O,  these  deliberate  fools  1  when  they  do  choose, 
They  have  the  wisdom  by  their  wit  to  lose.  80 

Nerissa.    The  ancient  saying  is  no  heresy,  — 
Hanging  and  wiving  goes  by  destiny. 

Portia.   Come,  draw  the  curtain,  Nerissa. 

Enter  a  Servant 

Servant.   Where  is  my  lady  ? 

Portia.  Here  ;  what  would  my  lord  ? 

Servant.    Madam,  there  is  alighted  at  your  gate 
A  young  Venetian,  one  that  comes  before 


Scene  IX]     The  Merchant  of  Venice  83 

To  signify  the  approaching  of  his  lord, 

From  whom  he  bringeth  sensible  regreets ; 

To  wit,  besides  commends  and  courteous  breath, 

Gifts  of  rich  value.     Yet  I  have  not  seen  90 

So  likely  an  ambassador  of  love ; 

A  day  in  April  never  came  so  sweet, 

To  show  how  costly  summer  was  at  hand, 

As  this  fore-spurrer  comes  before  his  lord. 

Portia.   No  more,  I  pray  thee  ;  I  am  half  afeard 
Thou  wilt  say  anon  he  is  some  kin  to  thee, 
Thou  spend'st  such  high-day  wit  in  praising  him. — 
Come,  come,  Nerissa ;  for  I  long  to  see 
Quick  Cupid's  post  that  comes  so  mannerly. 

Nerissa.   Bassanio,  lord  Love,  if  thy  will  it  be  I       100 

[Exeunt. 


RIALTO  BRIDGE 


ACT   III 

SCENE  I.      Venice.     A  Street 

Enter  SALANIO  and  SALARINO 

Salanio.   Now,  what  news  on  the  Rialto  ? 

Salarino.  Why,  yet  it  lives  there  unchecked  that 
Antonio  hath  a  ship  of  rich  lading  wracked  on  the 
narrow  seas  —  the  Goodwins  I  think  they  call  the 
place ;  a  very  dangerous  flat  and  fatal,  where  the  car- 
casses of  many  a  tall  ship  lie  buried,  as  they  say,  if 
my  gossip  Report  be  an  honest  woman  of  her  word, 

Satanio.  I  would  she  were  as  lying  a  gossip  in 
that  as  ever  knapped  ginger,  or  made  her  neigh- 


Scene  I]        The   Merchant  of  Venice  85 

bcurs  believe  she  wept  for  the  death  of  a  third  hus.- 10 
band.     But  it  is  true,  without  any  slips  of  prolixity 
or  crossing  the  plain  highway  of  talk,  that  the  good 
Antonio,  the  honest  Antonio,  —  O  that  I  had  a  title 
good  enough  to  keep  his  name  company  !  —     . 

Salarino.    Come,  the  full  stop. 

Salanio.  Ha  !  what  sayest  thou  ?  —  Why,  the  end 
is,  he  hath  lost  a  ship. 

Salarino.  I  would  it  might  prove  the  end  of  his 
losses ! 

Salanio.   Let  me  say  amen  betimes,  lest  the  devil  20 
cross  my  prayer;  for  here  he  comes  in  the  likeness 

of  a  Jew.  — 

Enter  SHYLOCK 

How  now,  Shy  lock  ?  what  news  among  the  merchants  ? 

Shy  lock.  You  knew,  none  so  .well,  none  so  well  as 
you,  of  my  daughter's  flight. 

Salarino.  That 's  certain  ;  I,  for  my  part,  knew  the 
tailor  that  made  the  wings  she  flew  withal. 

Salanio.  And  Shylock,  for  his  own  part,  knew  the 
bird  was  fledged ;  and  then  it  is  the  complexion  of 
them  all  to  leave  the  dam.  30 

Shylock.    My  own  flesh  and  blood  to  rebel ! 

Salarino.  There  is  more  difference  between  thy 
flesh  and  ht/s  than  between  jet  and  ivory;  more 
between  your  bloods  than  there  is  between  red  wine 
and  Rhenish.  But  tell  us,  do  you  hear  whether 
Antonio  have  had  any  loss  at  sea  or  no? 

Shylock.   There  I  have  another  bad  match :  a  bank- 


86  The  Merchant  of  Venice         [Act  ill 

rupt,  a  prodigal,  who  dare  scarce  show  his  head  on 
the  Rialto  ;  a  beggar,  that  was  used  to  come  so  smug 
upon  the  mart.  Let  him  look  to  his  bond :  he  was  40 
wont  to  call  me  usurer ;  let  him  look  to  his  bond : 
he  was  Wont  to  lend  money  for  a  Christian  courtesy ; 
let  him  look  to  his  bond. 

Salarino.    Why,  I  am  sure,  if  he  forfeit,  thou  wilt 
not  take  his  flesh  ;  what 's  that  good  for  ? 

Shylock.  To  bait  fish  withal ;  if  it  will  feed  noth- 
ing else,  it  will  feed  my  revenge.  He  hath  disgraced 
me  and  hindered  me  half  a  million,  laughed  at  my 
losses,  mocked  at  my  gains,  scorned  my  nation, 
thwarted  my  bargains,  cooled  my  friends,  heated  50 
mine  enemies  ;  and  what 's  his  reason  ?  I  am  a  Jew. 
Hath  not  a  Jew  eyes  ?  hath  not  a  Jew  hands,  organs, 
dimensions,  senses,  affections,  passions  ?  fed  with  the 
same  food,  hurt  with  the  same  weapons,  subject  to 
the  same  diseases,  healed  by  the  same  means,  warmed 
and  cooled  by  the  same  winter  and  summer,  as  a 
Christian  is  ?  If  you  prick  us,  do  we  not  bleed  ?  if 
you  tickle  us,  do  we  not  laugh  ?  if  you  poison  us, 
do  we  not  die  ?  and  if  you  wrong  us,  shall  we  not 
revenge  ?  If  we  are  like  you  in  the  rest,  we  will  60' 
resemble  you  in  that.  If  a  Jew  wrong  a  Christian, 
what  is  his  humility?  Revenge.  If  a  Christian 
wrong  a  Jew,  what  should  his  sufferance  be,  by 
Christian  example?  Why,  revenge.  The  villany 
you  teach  me,  I  will  execute ;  and  it  shall  go  hard 
but  I  will  better  the  instruction. 


Scene  I]      The  Merchant  of  Venice  87 

Enter  a  Servant 

Servant.   Gentlemen,  my  master  Antonio  is  at  his 
house,  and  desires  to  speak  with  you  both. 

Salarino.  We  have  been  up  and  down  to  seek  him. 

Enter  TUBAL 

Salanio.   Here  comes  another  of  the  tribe ;  a  third  70 
cannot  be  matched,  unless  the  devil  himself  turn 
Jew.  [Exeunt  Salanio,  Salarino,  and  Servant. 

Shy  lock.    How  now,  Tubal  ?  what  news  from  Genoa  ? 
hast  thou  found  my  daughter  ? 

Tubal.   I  often  came  where  I  did  hear  of  her,  but 
cannot  find  her. 

Shy  lock.  Why,  there,  there,  there,  there !  a  dia- 
mond gone,  cost  me  two  thousand  ducats  in  Frank- 
fort !  The  curse  never  fell  upon  our  nation  till  now ; 
I  never  felt  it  till  now ;  two  thousand  ducats  in  that,  80 
and  other  precious,  precious  jewels.  I  would  my 
daughter  were  dead  at  my  foot,  and  the  jewels  in 
her  ear  1  Would  she  were  hearsed  at  my  foot,  and 
the  ducats  in  her  coffin !  No  news  of  them  ?  — 
Why,  so ;  and  I  know  not  how  much  is  spent  in  the 
search.  Why,  thou  loss  upon  loss  !  the  thief  gone 
with  so  much,  and  so  much  to  find  the  thief ;  and  no 
satisfaction,  no  revenge ;  nor  no  ill  luck  stirring  but 
what  lights  o'  my  shoulders ;  no  sighs  but  o'  my 
breathing,  no  tears  but  o'  my  shedding.  90 

Tubal.   Yes,  other  men  have  ill  luck  too.    Antonio, 
as  I  heard  in  Genoa, — 


88  .  The  Merchant  of  Venice        [Act  in 

Shylock.    What,  what,  what  ?  ill  luck,  ill  luck  ? 

TubaL  Hath  an  argosy  cast  away,  coming  from 
Tripolis. 

Shylock.  I  thank  God !  I  thank  God !  Is  it  true? 
is  it  true  ? 

TubaL  I  spoke  with  some  of  the  sailors  that  es- 
caped the  wrack. 

Shylock.    I  thank  thee,  good  Tubal !  —  Good  news,  100 
good  news  !  ha,  ha !  —  Where  ?  in  Genoa  ? 

Tubal.  Your  daughter  spent  in  Genoa,  as  I  heard, 
in  one  night  fourscore  ducats. 

Shylock.  Thou  stick'st  a  dagger  in  me.  I  shall 
never  see  my  gold  again.  Fourscore  ducats  at  a  sit- 
ting !  fourscore  ducats ! 

Tubal.  There  came  divers  of  Antonio's  creditors 
in  my  company  to  Venice,  that  swear  he  cannot 
choose  but  break. 

Shylock.    I  am  very  glad  of  it,     I  '11  plague  him ;  no 
I  '11  torture  him.     I  am  glad  of  it. 

Tubal.  One  of  them  showed  me  a  ring  that  he  had 
of  your  daughter  for  a  monkey. 

Shylock.  Out  upon  her !  Thou  torturest  me,  Tu- 
bal. It  was  my  turquoise ;  I  had  it  of  Leah  when  I 
was  a  bachelor.  I  would  not  have  given  it  for  a  wil- 
derness of  monkeys. 

Tubal.    But  Antonio  is  certainly  undone. 

Shylock.    Nay,  that 's  true,  that 's  very  true.     Go, 
Tubal,  fee  me  an  officer ;  bespeak  him  a  fortnight  120 
before.     I  will  have  the  heart  of  him,  if  he  forfeit ; 


Scene  II]       The  Merchant  of  Venice  89 

for,  were  he  out  of  Venice,  I  can  make  what  mer- 
chandise I  will.  Go,  go,  Tubal,  and  meet  me  at 
our  synagogue  :  go,  good  Tubal ;  at  our  synagogue, 
Tubal.  \Exeunt. 


SCENE  II.     Belmont.     A  Room  in  Portia's  House 

Enter  BASSANIO,  PORTIA,  GRATIANO,  NERISSA,  and 
Attendants 

Portia.    I  pray  you,  tarry  :  pause  a  day  or  two 
Before  you  hazard,  for,  in  choosing  wrong, 
I  lose  your  company ;  therefore  forbear  a  while. 
There  's  something  tells  me,  but  it  is  not  love, 
I  would  not  lose  you ;  and  you  know  yourself, 
Hate  counsels  not  in  such  a  quality. 
But  lest  you  should  not  understand  me  well,  — 
And  yet  a  maiden  hath  no  tongue  but  thought,  — 
I  would  detain  you  here  some  month  or  two 
Before  you  venture  for  me.     I  could  teach  you 
How  to  choose  right,  but  then  I  am  forsworn ; 
So  will  I  never  be.     So  may  you  miss  me ; 
But  if  you  do,  you  '11  make  me  wish  a  sin, 
That  I  had  been  forsworn.     Beshrew  your  eyes, 
They  have  o'erlook'd  me  and  divided  me ; 
One  half  of  me  is  yours,  the  other  half  yours,  — 
Mine  own,  I  would  say;  but  if  mine,  then  yours, 
And  so  all  yours.     O,  these  naughty  times 
Put  bars  between  the  owners  and  their  rights  ! 
And  so,  though  yours,  not  yours.     Prove  it  so, 


90  The  Merchant  of  Venice        [Act  m 

Let  fortune  go  to  hell  for  it,  not  I. 
I  speak  too  long;  but  'tis  to  petze  the  time, 
To  eke  it,  and  to  draw  it  out  in  length, 
To  stay  you  from  election.  . 

Bassanio.  Let  me  choose  ; 

For  as  I  am,  I  live  upon  the  rack. 

Portia.    Upon  the  rack,  Bassanio !  then  confess 
What  treason  there  is  mingled  with  your  love. 

Bassanio.    None  but  that  ugly  treason  of  mistrust 
Which  makes  me  fear  the  enjoying  of  my  love. 
There  may  as  well  be  amity  and  life  30 

'Tween  snow  and  fire  as  treason  and  my  love. 

Portia.    Ay,  but  I  fear  you  speak  upon  the  rack, 
Where  men  enforced  do  speak  any  thing. 

Bassanio.    Promise  me  life,  and  I'll  confess  the  truth. 

Portia.    Well  then,  confess  and  live. 

Bassanio.  Confess  and  love 

Had  been  the  very  sum  of  my  confession. 
O  happy  torment,  when  my  torturer 
Doth  teach  me  answers  for  deliverance ! 
But  let  me  to  my  fortune  and  the  caskets. 

Portia.   Away,  then !  I  am  lock'd  in  one  of  them  ;   40 
If  you  do  love  me,  you  will  find  me  out.  — 
Nerissa  and  the  rest,  stand  all  aloof.  — 
Let  music  sound  while  he  doth  make  his  choice ; 
Then,  if  he  lose,  he  makes  a  swan-like  end, 
Fading  in  music  :  that  the  comparison 
May  stand  more  proper,  my  eye  shall  be  the  stream 
And  watery  death-bed  for  him.     He  may  win  ; 


Scene  II]      The   Merchant  of  Venice  91 

And  what  is  music  then  ?     Then  music  is 

Even  as  the  flourish  when  true  subjects  bow 

To  a  new-crowned  monarch  ;  such  it  is  50 

As  are  those  dulcet  sounds  in  break  of  day 

That  creep  into  the  dream  ing  l>ridegroom's  ear 

And  summon  him  to  marriage.     Now  he  goes, 

With  no  less  presence,  but  with  much  more  love, 

Than  young  Alcides,  when  he  did  redeem 

The  virgin  tribute  paid  by  howling  Troy 

To  the  sea-monster.     I  stand  for  sacrifice ; 

The  rest  aloof  are  the  Dardanian  wives, 

With  bleared  visages,  come  forth  to  view 

The  issue  of  the  exploit.     Go,  Hercules !  60 

Live  thou,  I  live.  —  With  much  more  dismay 

i  view  the  fight  than  thou  that  mak'st  the  fray. 

A  Song,  whilst  BASSANIO  comments  on  the  caskets  to 
himself. 

Tell  me  where  is  fancy  bred, 
Or  in  the  heart  or  in  the  head? 
How  begot,  how  nourished? 
Reply,  reply. 

It  is  engendered  in  the  eyes, 

With  gazing  fed  ;  and  fancy  dies 

In  the  cradle  where  it  lies. 

Let  us1  all  ring  fancy 's  knell;  70 

1  'II  begin  it,  —  Ding,  dong,  bell. 

All.  Ding,  dong,  bell. 


92  The  Merchant  of  Venice        [Act  m 

Bassanio.    So  may  the  outward  shows  be  least  them- 
selves ; 

The  world  is  still  deceiv'd  with  ornament. 
In  law,  what  plea  so  tainted  and  corrupt 
But,  being  season 'd  with  a  gracious  voice, 
Obscures  the  show  of  evil  ?     In  religion, 
What  damned  error,  but  some  sober  brow 
Will  bless  it  and  approve  it  with  a  text, 
Hiding  the  grossness  with  fair  ornament?  8« 

There  is  no  vice  so  simple  but  assumes 
Some  mark  of  virtue  on  his  outward  parts. 
How  many  cowards,  whose  hearts  are  all  as  false 
As  stairs  of  sand,  wear  yet  upon  their  chins 
The  beards  of  Hercules  and  frowning  Mars, 
Who,  inward  search 'd,  have  livers  white  as  milk ; 
And  these  assume  but  valour's  excrement 
To  render  them  redoubted  !     Look  on  beauty, 
And  you  shall  see  't  is  purchased  by  the  weight, 
Which  therein  works  a  miracle  in  nature,  90 

Making  them  lightest  that  wear  most  of  it. 
So  are  those  crisped  snaky  golden  locks, 
Which  make  such  wanton  gambols  with  the  wind, 
Upon  supposed  fairness,  often  known 
To  be  the  dowry  of  a  second  head, 
The  skull  that  bred  them  in  the  sepulchre. 
Thus  ornament  is  but  the  guiled  shore 
To  a  most  dangerous  sea,  the  beauteous  scarf 
Veiling  an  Indian  beauty,  —  in  a  word, 
The  seeming  truth  which  cunning  times  put  on          100 


Scene  ii]      The  Merchant  of  Venice  93 

To  entrap  the  wisest.     Therefore,  thou  gaudy  gold, 
Hard  food  for  Midas,  I  will  none  of  thee ; 
Nor  none  of  thee,  thou  pale  and  common  drudge 
'Tween  man  and  man  ;  but  thou,  thou  meagre  lead, 
Which  rather  threatenest  than  dost  promise  aught, 
Thy  plainness  moves  me  more  than  eloquence, 
And  here  choose  I.     Joy  be  the  consequence  ! 

Portia.   [Aside]  How  all  the  other  passions  fleet  to  air, 
As  doubtful  thoughts,  and  rash-embrac'd  despair, 
And  shuddering  fear,  and  green-eyed  jealousy  I  no 

0  love  !  be  moderate  ;  allay  thy  ecstasy  ; 
In  measure  rain  thy  joy ;  scant  this  excess. 

1  feel  too  much  thy  blessing;  make  it  less, 
For  fear  I  surfeit. 

Bassanio.  What  find  I  here  ? 

[  Opening  the  leaden  casket. 
Fair  Portia's  counterfeit !     What  demigod 
Hath  come  so  near  creation  ?     Move  these  eyes  ? 
Or  whether,  riding  on  the  balls  of  mine 
Seem  they  in  motion?     Here  are  sever 'd  lips, 
Parted  with  sugar  breath  ;  so  sweet  a  bar 
Should  sunder  such  sweet  friends.    Here  in  her  hairs  120 
The  painter  plays  the  spider,  and  hath  woven 
A  golden  mesh  to  entrap  the  hearts  of  men 
Faster  than  gnats  in  cobwebs.     But  her  eyes  !  — 
How  could  he  see  to  do  them  ?  having  made  one, 
Methinks  it  should  have  power  to  steal  both  his 
And  leave  itself  unfurnish'd.     Yet  look,  how  far 
The  substance  of  my  praise  doth  wrong  this  shadow 


94  The  Merchant  of  Venice        [Act  ill 

In  underprizing  it,  so  far  this  shadow 

Doth  limp  behind  the  substance.  —  Here's  the  scroll. 

The  continent  and  summary  of  my  fortune.  130 

'  You  that  choose  not  by  the  view 
Chance  as  fair  and  choose  as  true! 
Since  this  fortune  falls  to  you, 
Be  content  and  seek  no  new. 
If  you  be  well  pleased  with  this, 
And  hold  your  fortune  for  your  bliss  > 
Turn  you  where  your  lady  is, 
And  claim  her  with  a  loving  kiss? 

A  gentle  scroll.  —  Fair  lady,  by  your  leave  ; 

I  come  by  note,  to  give  and  to  receive.        \Kissing  her. 

Like  one  of  two  contending  in  a  prize,  141 

That  thinks  he  hath  done  well  in  people's  eyes, 

Hearing  applause  and  universal  shout, 

Giddy  in  spirit,  still  gazing  in  a  doubt 

Whether  those  peals  of  praise  be  his  or  no ; 

So,  thrice-fair  lady,  stand  I,  even  so, 

As  doubtful  whether  what  I  see  be  true, 

Until  confirm'd,  sign'd,  ratified  by  you. 

Portia.   You  see  me,  .Lord  Bassanio,  where  I  stand, 
Such  as  I  am.     Though  for  myself  alone  150 

I  would  not  be  ambitious  in  my  wish, 
To  wish  myself  much  better,  yet  for  you 
I  would  be  trebled  twenty  times  myself, 
A  thousand  times  more  fair,  ten  thousand  times  more 
rich, 


Scene  II]      The  Merchant  of  Venice  95 

That  only  to  stand  high  in  your  account, 

I  might  in  virtues,  beauties,  livings,  friends, 

Exceed  account.     But  the  full  sum  of  me 

Is  sum  of  nothing ;  which,  to  term  in  gross, 

Is  an  unlesson'd  girl,  unschool'd,  unpractised : 

Happy  in  this,  she  is  not  yet  so  old  i6c 

But  she  may  learn  ;  happier  than  this, 

She  is  not  bred  so  dull  but  she  can  learn ; 

Happiest  of  all  in  that  her  gentle  spirit 

Commits  itself  to  yours  to  be  directed, 

As  from  her  lord,  her  governor,  her  king. 

Myself  and  what  is  mine  to  you  and  yours 

Is  now  converted.     But  now  I  was  the  lord 

Of  this  fair  mansion,  master  of  my  servants, 

Queen  o'er  myself ;  and  even  now,  but  now, 

This  house,  these  servants,  and  this  same  myself       170 

Are  yours,  my  lord.     I  give  them  with  this  ring, 

Which  when  you  part  from,  lose,  or  give  away, 

Let  it  presage  the  ruin  of  your  love, 

And  be  my  vantage  to  exclaim  on  you. 

Bassanio.   Madam,  you  have  bereft  me  of  all  words, 
Only  my  blood  speaks  to  you  in  my  veins  ; 
And  there  is  such  confusion  in  my  powers 
As,  after  some  oration  fairly  spoke 
By  a  beloved  prince,  there  doth  appear 
Among  the  buzzing  pleased  multitude,  180 

Where  every  something,  being  blent  together, 
Turns  to  a  wild  of  nothing,  save  of  joy, 
Express'd  and  not  express'd.     But  when  this  ring 


96  The  Merchant  of  Venice        [Act  in 

Parts  from  this  finger,  then  parts  life  from  hence ; 
O,  then  be  bold  to  say  Bassanio's  dead ! 

Nerissa.  My  lord  and  lady,  it  is  now  our  time, 
That  have  stood  by  and  seen  our  wishes  prosper, 
To  cry,  good  joy.  Good  joy,  my  lord  and  lady ! 

Gratiano.    My  lord  Bassanio  and  my  gentle  lady, 
I  wish  you  all  the  joy  that  you  can  wish,  190 

For  I  am  sure  you  can  wish  none  from  me ; 
And  when  your  honours  mean  to  solemnize 
The  bargain  of  your  faith,  I  do  beseech  you, 
Even  at  that  time  I  may  be  married  too. 

Bassanio.    With  all  my  heart,  so  thou  canst  get  a  wife. 

Gratiano.  I  thank  your  lordship,  you  have  got  me  one. 
My  eyes,  my  lord,  can  look  as  swift  as  yours. 
You  saw  the  mistress,  I  beheld  the  maid ; 
You  lov'd,  I  lov'd  ;  for  intermission 
No  more  pertains  to  me,  my  lord,  than  you.  200 

Your  fortune  stood  upon  the  caskets  there, 
And  so  did  mine  too,  as  the  matter  falls  ; 
For  wooing  here  until  I  sweat  again, 
And  swearing  till  my  very  roof  was  dry 
With  oaths  of  love,  at  last,  if  promise  last, 
I  got  a  promise  of  this  fair  one  here 
To  have  her  love,  provided  that  your  fortune 
Achiev'd  her  mistress. 

Portia.  Is  this  true,  Nerissa  ? 

Nerissa.    Madam,  it  is,  so  you  stand  pleas'd  withal. 

JBassanio.   And  do  you,  Gratiano,  mean  good  faith  ?  21? 

Gratiano.   Yes,  faith,  my  lord. 


Scene  ii]      The  Merchant  of  Venice  97 

Bassanio.   Our  feast  shall  be  much  honoured  in  your 

marriage. 
Gratiano.    But  who  comes  here?     Lorenzo  and  his 

infidel  ? 
What !  and  my  old  Venetian  friend,  Salerio  ? 


Enter  LORENZO,  JESSICA,  and  SALERIO,  a  messenger 
from  Venice 

Bassanio.   Lorenzo  and  Salerio,  welcome  hither ; 
If  that  the  youth  of  my  new  interest  here 
Have  power  to  bid  you  welcome.  —  By  your  leave, 
I  bid  my  very  friends  and  countrymen, 
Sweet  Portia,  welcome. 

Portia.  So  do  I,  my  lord  ; 

They  are  entirely  welcome.  220 

Lorenzo.  I  thank  your  honour.  —  For  my  part,  my  lord, 
My  purpose  was  not  to  have  seen  you  here ; 
But  meeting  with  Salerio  by  the  way, 
He  did  entreat  me,  past  all  saying  nay, 
To  come  with  him  along. 

Salerio.  I  did,  my  lord, 

And  I  have  reason  for  it.     Signior  Antonio 
Commends  him  to  you.  \Gives  Bassanio  a  letter. 

Bassanio.  Ere  I  ope  his  letter, 

I  pray  you,  tell  me  how  my  good  friend  doth. 

Salerio.    Not  sick,  my  lord,  unless  it  be  in  mind, 
Nor  well,  unless  in  mind  ;  his  letter  there  230 

Will  show  you  his  estate. 

MER.   OF  YEN.  —  7 


98  The  Merchant  of  Venice        [Act  in 

Gratiano.    Nerissa,  cheer  yon  stranger ;  bid  her  wel- 
come. — 

Your  hand,  Salerio  ;  what 's  the  news  from  Venice  ? 
How  doth -that  royal  merchant,  good  Antonio? 
I  know  he  will  be  glad  of  our  success ; 
We  are  the  Jasons,  we  have  won  the  fleece. 

Salerio.    I  would  you  had  won  the  fleece  that  he  hath 
lost! 

Portia.    There  are  some  shrewd  contents  in  yon  same 

paper, 

That  steals  the  colour  fiorn  Bassanio's  cheek: 
Some  dear  friend  dead  ;  else  nothing  in  the  world      240 
Could  turn  so  much  the  constitution 
Of  any  constant  man.     What,  worse  and  worse  ?  — 
With  leave,  Bassanio  ;  I  am  half  yourself, 
And  I  must  freely  have  the  half  of  any  thing 
That  this  same  paper  brings  you. 

Bassanio.  O  sweet  Portia, 

Here  are  a  few  of  the  unpleasant'st  words 
That  ever  blotted  paper !     Gentle  lady, 
When  I  did  first  impart  my  love  to  you, 
I  freely  told  you,  all  the  wealth  I  had 
Ran  in  my  veins  —  I  was  a  gentleman,  •  250 

And  then  1  told  you  true ;  and  yet,  dear  lady, 
Rating  myself  at  nothing,  you  shall  see 
How  much  I  was  a  braggart.     When  I  told  you 
My  state  was  nothing,  I  should  then  have  told  you 
That  I  was  worse  than  nothing ;  for  indeed 
I  have  engag'd  myself  to  a  dear  friend, 


Scene  II]       The   Merchant  of  Venice  99 

Engag'd  my  friend  to  his  mere  enemy, 

To  feed  my  means.     Here  is  a  letter,  lady ; 

The  paper  as  the  body  of  my  friend, 

And  every  word  in  it  a  gaping  wound,  260 

Issuing  life-blood.  —  But  is  it  true,  Salerio  ? 

Have  all  his  ventures  fail'd  ?     What,  not  one  hit? 

From  Tripolis,  from  Mexico,  and  England, 

From  Lisbon,  Barbary,  and  India, 

And  not  one  vessel  scape  the  dreadful  touch 

Of  merchant-marring  rocks  ? 

Salerio.  Not  one.  my  lord. 

Besides,  it  should  appear  that  if  he  had 
The  present  money  to  discharge  the  Jew, 
He  would  not  take  it.     Never  did  I  know 
A  creature  that  did  bear  the  shape  of  man,  270 

So  keen  and  greedy  to  confound  a  man. 
He  plies  the  duke  at  morning  and  at  night, 
And  doth  impeach  the  freedom  of  the  state, 
If  they  deny  him  justice..     Twenty  merchants, 
The  duke  himself,  and  the  magnificoes 
Of  greatest  port,  have  all  persuaded  with  him ; 
But  none  can  drive  him  from  the  envious  plea 
Of  forfeiture,  of  justice,  and  his  bond. 

Jessica.   When  I  was  with  him  I  have  heard  him 

swear 

To  Tubal  and  to  Chus,  his  countrymen,  280 

That  he  would  rather  have  Antonio's  flesh 
Than  twenty  times  the  value  of  the  sum 
That  he  did  owe  him  ;  and  I  know,  my  lord, 


TOO  The  Merchant  of  Venice        [Act  m 

If  law,  authority,  and  power  deny  not, 
It  will  go  hard  with  poor  Antonio. 

Portia.    Is  it  your  dear  friend  that  is  thus  in  trouble  ? 

Bassanio.    The   dearest   friend   to   me,    the    kindest 

man, 

The  best-condition'd  and  unwearied  spirit 
In  doing  courtesies  ;  and  one  in  whom 
The  ancient  Roman  honour  more  appears  290 

Than  any  that  draws  breath  in  Italy. 

Portia.    What  sum  owes  he  the  Jew  ? 

Bassanio.    For  me,  three  thousand  ducats. 

Portia.  What,  no  more "? 

Pay  him  six  thousand,  and  deface  the  bond ; 
Double  six  thousand,  and  then  treble  that, 
Before  a  friend  of  this  description 
Shall  lose  a  hair  through  Bassahio's  fault. 
First  go  with  me  to  church  and  call  me  wife, 
And  then  away  to  Venice  to  your  friend ; 
For  never  shall  you  lie  by  Portia's  side  300 

With  an  unquiet  soul.     You  shall  have  gold 
To  pay  the  petty  debt  twenty  times  over ; 
When  it  is  paid,  bring  your  true  friend  along. 
My  maid  Nerissa  and  myself,  mean  time, 
Will  live  as  maids  and  widows.     Come,  away  I 
For  you  shall  hence  upon-  your  wedding-day. 
Bid  your  friends  welcome,  show  a  merry  cheer ; 
Since  you  are  dear  bought,  I  will  love  you  dear.  — 
But  let  me  hear  the  letter  of  your  friend. 

Bassanio.    [Reads]  '  Sweet  Bassanio,  my  ships 


Scene  ill]     The  Merchant  of  Venice  101 

all  miscarried,  my  creditors  grow  cruel,  my  estate  is  very 
low,  my  bond  to  the  Jew  is  forfeit ;  and  since,  in  paying 
it,  it  is  impossible  I  should  live,  all  debts  are  cleared 
between  you  and  I,  if  I  might  see  you  at  my  death. 
Notwithstanding,  use  your  pleasure ;  if  your  love  do 
not  persuade  you  to  come,  let  not  my  letter? 

Portia.    O  love,  dispatch  all  business,  and  be  gone ! 

Bassanio.    Since  I  have  your  good  leave  to  go  away, 
I  will  make  haste ;  but,  till  I  come  again, 

No  bed  shall  e'er  be  guilty  of  my  stay,  320 

Nor  rest  be  interposer  'twixt  us  twain.        \Exeunt. 


SCENE  III.      Venice.     A  Street 
Enter  SHYLOCK,  SALARINO,  ANTONIO,  and  Gaoler 

Shylock.    Gaoler,    look    to    him ;     tell    not    me    of 

mercy.  — 

This  is  the  fool  that  lends  out  money  gratis.  — 
Gaoler,  look  to  him. 

Antonio.  Hear  me  yet,  good  Shylock. 

Shylock.    I  '11  have  my  bond ;  speak  not  against  my 

bond. 

I  have  sworn  an  oath  that  I  will  have  my  bond. 
Thou  call'dst  me  dog  before  thou  hadst  a  cause ; 
But,  since  I  am  a  dog,  beware  my  fangs. 
The  duke  shall  grant  me  justice.  —  I  do  wonder, 
Thou  naughty  gaoler,  that  thou  art  so  fond 
To  come  abroad  with  him  at  his  request.  10 


f02  The  Merchant  of  Venice        [Act  m 

Antonio.    I  pray  thee,  hear  me  speak. 

Shylock.    I  '11  have  my  bond  ;  I  will  not  hear  thee 

speak. 

I  '11  have  my  bond  ;  and  therefore  speak  no  more. 
I  '11  not  be  made  a  soft  and  dull-eyed  fool, 
To  shake  the  head,  relent,  and  sigh,  and  yield 
To  Christian  intercessors.     Follow  not ; 
I  '11  have  no  speaking  ;  I  will  have  my  bond.         [Exit. 

Salarino.    It  is  the  most  impenetrable  cur 
That  ever  kept  with  men. 

Antonio.  Let  him  alone  ; 

I  '11  follow  him  no  more  with  bootless  prayers.  20 

He  seeks  my  life ;  his  reason  well  I  know. 
I  oft  deliver'd  from  his  forfeitures 
Many  that  have  at  times  made  moan  to  me ; 
Therefore  he  hates  me. 

Salarino.  I  am  sure  the  duke 

Will  never  grant  this  forfeiture  to  hold. 

Antonio.    The  duke  cannot  deny  the  course  of  law; 
For  the  commodity  that  strangers  have 
With  us  in  Venice,  if  it  be  denied, 
Will  much  impeach  the  justice  of  the  state, 
Since  that  the  trade  and  profit  of  the  city  30 

Consisteth  of  all  nations.     Therefore  go ; 
These  griefs  and  losses  have  so  bated  me 
That  I  shall  hardly  spare  a  pound  of  flesh 
To-morrow  to  my  bloody  creditor.  — 
Well,  gaoler,  on.  —  Pray  God,  Bassanio  come 
To  see  me  pay  his  debt,  and  then  I  care  not !    \Exeunt 


Scene  IV]     The   Merchant  of  Venice  103 


SCENE  IV.     Belmont.     A  Room  in  Portia's  House 

Enter  PORTIA,  NERISSA,  LORENZO,  JESSICA,  and 
BALTHASAR 

Lorenzo.    Madam,  although  I  speak  it  in  your  pres- 
ence, 

You  have  a  noble  and  a  true  conceit 
Of  godlike  amity,  which  appears  most  strongly 
In  bearing  thus  the  absence  of  your  lord. 
But  if  you  knew  to  whom  you  show  this  honour, 
How  true  a  gentleman  you  send  relief, 
How  dear  a  lover  of  my  lord  your  husband, 
I  know  you  would  be  prouder  of  the  work 
Than  customary  bounty  can  enforce  you. 

Portia.   I  never  did  repent  for  doing  good,  10 

Nor  shall  not  now ;  for  in  companions 
That  do  converse  and  waste  the  time  together, 
Whose  souls  do  bear  an  equal  yoke  of  love, 
There  must  be  needs  a  like  proportion 
Of  lineaments,  of  manners,  and  of  spirit ; 
Which  makes  me  think  that  this  Antonio, 
Being  the  bosom  lover  of  my  lord, 
Must  needs  be  like  my  lord.     If  it  be  so, 
How  little  is  the  cost  I  have  bestow'd 
In  purchasing  the  semblance  of  my  soul  20 

From  out  the  state  of  hellish  cruelty ! 
This  comes  too  near  the  praising  of  myself, 
Therefore  no  more  of  it ;  hear  other  things. 


104  The  Merchant  of  Venice        [Act  in 

Lorenzo,  I  commit  into  your  hands 

The  husbandry  and  manage  of  my  house 

Until  my  lord's  return ;  for  mine  own  part, 

I  have  toward  heaven  breath 'd  a  secret  vow 

To  live  in  prayer  and  contemplation, 

Only  attended  by  Nerissa  here, 

Until  her  husband  and  my  lord's  return.  90 

There  is  a  monastery  two  miles  off, 

And  there  will  we  abide.     I  do  desire  you 

Not  to  deny  this  imposition, 

The  which  my  love  and  some  necessity 

Now  lays  upon  you. 

Lorenzo.  Madam,  with  all  my  heart ; 

I  shall  obey  you  in  all  fair  commands. 

Portia.  My  people  do  already  know  my  mind, 
And  will  acknowledge  you  and  Jessica 
In  place  of  Lord  Bassanio  and  myself. 
So  fare  you  well  till  we  shall  meet  again.  40 

Lorenzo.   Fair  thoughts  and  happy  hours  attend  ou 
you! 

Jessica.    I  wish  your  ladyship  all  heart's  content. 

Portia.    I  thank  you  for  your  wish,  and  am  well  pleas 'd 
To  wish  it  back  on  you;  fare  you  well,  Jessica. — 

\Exeunt  Jessica  and  Lorenzo 
Now,  Balthasar, 

As  I  have  ever  found  thee  honest-true, 
So  let  me  find  thee  still.     Take  this  same  letter, 
And  use  thou  all  the  endeavour  of  a  man 
In  speed  to  Padua.     See  thou  render  this 


The  Merchant  of  Venice  105 

Into  my  cousin's  hand,  Doctor  Bellario  ;  50 

And,  look,  what  notes  and  garments  "he  doth  give  thee, 

Bring  them,  I  pray  thee,  with  imagin'd  speed 

Unto  the  tranect,  to  the  common  ferry 

Which  trades  to  Venice.     Waste  no  time  in  words, 

But  get  thee  gone  ;  I  shall  be  there  before  thee. 

Balthasar.   Madam,  I  go  with  all  convenient  speed. 

{Exit. 

Portia.    Come  on,  Nerissa  ;  I  have  work  in  hand 
That  you  yet  know  not  of.     We  '11  see  our  husbands 
Before  they  think  of  us. 

Nerissa.  Shall  they  see  us  ? 

Portia.   They  shall,  Nerissa,  but  in  such  a  habit      60 
That  they  shall  think  we  are  accomplished 
With  that  we  lack.     I  '11  hold  thee  any  wager, 
When  we  are  both  accoutred  like  young  men, 
I  '11  prove  the  prettier  fellow  of  the  two, 
And  wear  my  dagger  with  the  braver  grace, 
And  speak  between  the  change  of  man  and  boy 
With  a  reed  voice,  and  turn  two  mincing  steps 
Into  a  manly  stride,  and  speak  of  frays 
Like  a  fine  bragging  youth  ;  and  tell  quaint  lies, 
How  honourable  ladies  sought  my  love,  70 

Which  I  denying,  they  fell  sick  and  died, 
I  could  not  do  withal ;  then  I  '11  repent, 
And  wish,  for  all  that,  that  I  had  not  kill'd  them. 
And  twenty  of  these  puny  lies  I'll  tell, 
That  men  shall  swear  I  have  discontinued  school 
Above  a  twelvemonth.     I  have  within  my  mind 


io6  The  Merchant  of  Venice        [Act  m 

A  thousand  raw  tricks  of  these  bragging  Jacks 

Which  I  will  practise. 

But  come,  I  '11  tell  thee  all  my  whole  device 

When  I  am  in  my  coach,  which  stays  for  us  80 

At  the  park  gate  ;  and  therefore  haste  away, 

For  we  must  measure  twenty  miles  to-day.         [Exeunt. 


SCENE  V.     The  Same.     A  Garden 
Enter  LAUNCELOT  and  JESSICA 

Launcelot.  Yes,  truly;  for,  look  you,  the  sins  of  the 
father  are  to  be  laid  upon  the  children ;  therefore,  I 
promise  you,  I  fear  you.  I  was  always  plain  with 
you,  and  so  now  I  speak  my  agitation  of  the  matter ; 
therefore  be  of  good  cheer,  for  truly  I  think  you  are 
damned.  There  is  but  one  hope  in  it  that  can  do 
you  any  good. 

Jessica.   And  what  hope  is  that,  I  pray  thee  ? 

Launcelot.  Marry,  you  may  partly  hope  that  you 
are  not  the  Jew's  daughter. 

Jessica.  So  the  sins  of  my  mother  should  be  visited 
upon  me. 

Launcelot.  Truly  then  I  fear  you  are  damned  both 
by  father  and  mother  ;  thus  when  I  shun  Scylla,your 
father,  I  fall  into  Charybdis,  your  mother.  Well, 
you  are  gone  both  ways. 

Jessica.  I  shall  be  saved  by  my  husband  ;  he  hath 
made  me  a  Christian. 


Scene  V]       The   Merchant  of  Venice  107 

Launcelot.  Truly,  the  more  to  blame  he  ;  we  were 
Christians  enow  before,  e'en  as  many  as  could  well  20 
live,  one  by  another.  This  making  of  Christians 
will  raise  the  price  of  hogs ;  if  we  grow  all  to  be 
pork-eaters,  we  shall  not  shortly  have  a  rasher  on 
the  coals  for  money. 

Enter  LORENZO 

Jessica.  I  '11  tell  my  husband,  Launcelot,  what  you 
say ;  here  he  comes. 

Lorenzo.  I  shall  grow  jealous  of  vyou  shortly, 
Launcelot. 

Jessica.  Nay,  you  need  not  fear  us,  Lorenzo ; 
Launcelot  and  I  are  out.  He  tells  me  flatly,  there  3° 
is  no  mercy  for  me  in  heaven,  because  I  am  a  Jew's 
daughter ;  and  he  says  you  are  no  good  member  of 
the  commonwealth,  for  in  converting  Jews  to  Chris- 
tians you  raise  the  price  of  pork. 

Lorenzo.  I  think  the  best  grace  of  wit  will  shortly 
turn  into  silence,  and  discourse  grow  commendable 
in  none  only  but  parrots.  —  Go  in,  sirrah  ;  bid  them 
prepare  for  dinner. 

Launcelot.  That  is  done,  sir ;  they  have  all 
stomachs.  40 

Lorenzo.  Goodly  Lord,  what  a  wit-snapper  are 
you !  then  bid  them"  prepare  dinner. 

Launcelot.  That  is  done  too,  sir;  only,  cover  is 
the  word. 

Lorenzo.   Will  you  cover  then,  sir  ? 


io8  The  Merchant  of  Venice        [Act  in 

Launcelot.    Not  so,  sir,  neither ;  I  know  my  duty. 

Lorenzo.  Yet  more  quarrelling  with  occasion ! 
Wilt  thou  show  the  whole  wealth  of  thy  wit  in  an 
instant?  I  pray  thee,  understand  a  plain  man  in  his 
plain  meaning :  go  to  thy  fellows ;  bid  them  cover  50 
the  table,  serve  in  the  meat,  and  we  will  come  in  to 
dinner. 

Launcelot.  For. the  table,  sir,  it  shall  be  served  in  ; 
for  the  meat,  sir,  it  shall  be  covered ;  for  your  com- 
ing in  to  dinner,  sir,  why,  let  it  be  as  humours  and 
conceits  shall  govern.  \Exit. 

Lorenzo.   O   dear  discretion,  how  his  words  are 

suited ! 

The  fool  hath  planted  in  his  memory 
An  army  of  good  words  ;  and  I  do  know 
A  many  fools  that  stand  in  better  place,  60 

Garnish 'd  like  him,  that  for  a  tricksy  word 
Defy  the  matter.  —  How  cheer'st  thou,  Jessica  ? 
And  now,  good  sweet,  say  thy  opinion, 
How  dost  thou  like  the  lord  Bassanio's  wife  ? 

Jessica.    Past  all  expressing.     It  is  very  meet 
The  lord  Bassanio  live  an  upright  life, 
For,  having  such  a  blessing  in  his  lady, 
He  finds  the  joys  of  heaven  here  on  earth ; 
And  if  on  earth  he  do  not  mean  it,  then 
In  reason  he  should  never  come  to  heaven.  70 

Why,  if  two  gods  should  play  some  heavenly  match, 
And  on  the  wager  lay  two  earthly  women, 
And  Portia  one,  there  must  be  something  else 


Scene  V]       The  Merchant  of  Venice  109 

Pawn'd  with  the  other,  for  the  poor  rude  world 
Hath  not  her  fellow. 

Lorenzo.  Even  such  a  husband 

Hast  thou  of  me  as  she  is  for  a  wife. 

Jessica.    Nay,  but  ask  my  opinion  too  of  that. 

Lorenzo.    I  will  anon  ;  first,  let  us  go  to  dinner. 

Jessica.    Nay,   let    me   praise    you    while   I    have   a 
stomach. 

Lorenzo.   No,  pray  thee,  let  it  serve  for  table-talk ;   80 
Then,  howsoe'er  thou  speak'st,  'mong  other  things 
I  shall  digest  it. 

Jessica.  Well,  I  '11  set  you  forth.        \Exeunt. 


COURT  OF  DUCAL  PALACE 


ACT   IV 

SCENE  I.      Venice.     A  Court  of  Justice 

Enter  the  DUKE,  the  Magnificoes,  ANTONIO,  BASSANIO, 
GRATIANO,  SALERIO,  and  others 

Duke.    What,  is  Antonio  here  ? 

Antonio.    Ready,  so  please  your  grace. 

Duke.    I  am  sorry  for  thee  ;  thou  art  come  to  answer 
A  stony  adversary,  an  inhuman  wretch 
Uncapable  of  pity,  void  and  empty 
From  any  dram  of  mercy. 

Antonio.  I  have  heard 

Your  grace  hath  ta'en  great  pains  to  qualify 
His  rigorous  course  ;  but  since  he  stands  obdurate 
no 


Scene /]       The  Merchant  of  Venice  in 

And  that  no  lawful  means  can  carry  me 

Out  of  his  envy's  reach,  I  do  oppose  10 

My  patience  to  his  fury,  and  am  arm'd 

To  suffer,  with  a  quietness  of  spirit, 

The  very  tyranny  and  rage  of  his. 

Duke.   Go  one,  and  call  the  Jew  into  the  court. 

Salerio.   He  is  ready  at  the  door ;  he  comes,  my  lord. 

Enter  SHYLOCK 

Duke.   Make   room,  and  let  him  stand  before  our 

face. — 

Shylock,  the  world  thinks,  and  I  think  so  too, 
That  thou  but  lead'st  this  fashion  of  thy  malice 
To  the  last  hour  of  act ;  and  then  't  is  thought 
Thou  'It  show  thy  mercy  and  remorse,  more  strange    20 
Than  is  thy  strange  apparent  cruelty ; 
And  where  thou  now  exact'st  the  penalty, 
Which  is  a  pound  of  this  poor  merchant's  flesh, 
Thou  wilt  not  only  loose  the  forfeiture, 
But,  touch'd  with  human  gentleness  and  love, 
Forgive  a  moiety  of  the  principal ; 
Glancing  an  eye  of  pity  on  his  losses. 
That  have  of  late  so  huddled  on  his  back, 
Enow  to  press  a  royal  merchant  down, 
And  pluck  commiseration  of  his  state  30 

From  brassy  bosoms  and  rough  hearts  of  flint, 
From  stubborn  Turks  and  Tartars,  never  train 'd 
To  offices  of  tender  courtesy. 
We  all  expect  a  gentle  answer,  Jew. 


1 1 2  The  Merchant  of  Venice        [Act  iv 

Shy  lock.   I  have  possess 'd  your  grace  of  what  I  pur- 
pose, 

And  by  our  holy  Sabbath  have  I  sworn 
To  have  the  due  and  forfeit  of  my  bond. 
If  you  deny  it,  let  the  danger  light 
Upon  your  charter  and  your  city's  freedom. 
Vou  '11  ask  me  why  I  rather  choose  to  have  40 

A  weight  of  carrion  flesh  than  to  receive 
Three  thousand  ducats.     I  '11  not  answer  that ; 
But,  say,  it  is  my  humour  :  is  it  answer'd  ? 
What  if  my  house  be  troubled  with  a  rat, 
And  I  be  pleas'd  to  give  ten  thousand  ducats 
To  have  it  ban^d  ?     What,  are  you  answer'd  yet  ? 
Some  men  there  are  love'not  a  gaping  pig, 
Some  that  are  mad  if  they  behold  a  cat ; 
Masters  of  passion  sway  it  to  the  mood 
Of  what  it  likes  or  loathes.     Now,  for  your  answer ;    50 
As  there  is  no  firm  reason  to  be  render'd 
Why  he  cannot  abide  a  gaping  pig, 
Why  he  a  harmless  necessary  cat, 
So  can  I  give  no  reason,  nor  I  will  not, 
More  than  a  lodg'd  hate  and  a  certain  loathing 
I  bear  Antonio,  that  I  follow  thus 
A  losing  suit  against  him.     Are  you  answer'd  ? 

Bassanio.    This  is  no  answer,  thou  unfeeling  man, 
To  excuse  the  current  of  thy  cruelty. 

Shy  lock.   I  am  not  bound  to  please  thee  with   my 
answer.  60 

Bassanio.   Do  all  men  kill  the  things  they  do  not  love  ? 


-Scene  I]       The  Merchant  of  Venice  113 

Shylock.   Hates  any  man  the  thing  he  would  not  kill  ? 

Bassanio.    Every  offence  is  not  a  hate  at  first. 

Shylock.   What,  wouldst  thou  have  a  serpent  sting  thee 
twice  ? 

Antonio.    I  pray  you,  think  you  question  with  the 

Jew. 

You  may  as  well  go  stand  upon  the  beach, 
And  bid  the  main  flood  bate  his  usual  height; 
You  may  as  well  use  question  with  the  wolf 
Why  he  hath  made  the  ewe  bleat  for  the  lamb ; 
You  may  as  well  forbid  the  mountain  pines  70 

To  wag  their  high  tops  and  to  make  no  noise, 
When  they  are  fretted  with  the  gusts  of  heaven ; 
You  may  as  well  do  any  thing  most  hard, 
As  seek  to  soften  that  —  than  which  what  's  harder  ?  — 
His  Jewish  heart.     Therefore,  I  do  beseech  you, 
Make  no  more  offers,  use  no  farther  means, 
But  with  all  brief  and  plain  conveniency 
Let  me  have  judgment,  and  the  Jew  his  will. 

Bassanio.    For  thy  three  thousand  ducats  here  is  six. 
/     Shylock.   If  every  ducat  in  six  thousand  ducats         80 
Were  in  six  parts,  and  every  part  a  ducat, 
I  would  not  draw  them  ;  I  would  have  my  bond. 

Duke.   How  shalt  thou  hope  for  mercy,  rendering 
none  ?  .    ,    . 

Shylock.   What  judgment  shall   I   dread,   doing  no 

wrong  ? 

You  have  among  you  many  a  purchas'd  slave, 
WJiich,  like  your  asses  and  your  dogs  and  mules, 

MER.  OF  VEN.  —  8 


114  The  Merchant  of  Venice         [Act  w 

You  use  in  abject  and  in  slavish  parts, 

Because  you  bought  them.     Shall  I  say  to  you, 

Let  them  be  free,  marry  them  to  your  heirs  ? 

Why  sweat  they  under  burthens  ?  let  their  beds  90 

Be  made  as  soft  as  yours,  and  let  their  palates 

Be  season 'd  with  such  viands?     You  will  answer, 

The  slaves  are  ours.  —  So  do  I  answer  you : 

The  pound  of  flesh  which  I  demand  of  him 

Is  dearly  bought ;  't  is  mine,  and  I  will  have  it. 

If  you  deny  me,  fie  upon  your  law ! 

There  is  no  force  in  the  decrees  of  Venice. 

I  stand  for  judgment.     Answer  ;  shall  I  have  it? 

Duke.   Upon  my  power  I  may  dismiss  this  court 
Unless  Bellario,  a  learned  doctor,  100 

Whom  I  have  sent  for  to  determine  this? 
Come  here  to-day. 

Salerio.  My  lord,  here  stays  without 

A  messenger  with  letters  from  the  doctor, 
New  come  from  Padua. 

Duke.   Bring  us  the  letters  ;  call  the  messenger. 

Bassanio.   Good  cheer,  Antonio !     What,  man,  cour- 
age yet ! 

The  Jew  shall  have  my  flesh,  blood,  bones,  and  all, 
Ere  thou  shalt  lose  for  me  one  drop  of  blood. 

Antonio.    I  am  a  tainted  wether  of  the  flock, 
Meetest  for  death  ;  the  weakest  kind  of  fruit 
Drops  earliest  to  the  ground,  and  so  let  me. 
You  cannot  better  be  employ 'd,  Bassanio, 
Than  to  live  still  and  write  mine  epitaph, 


Scene  I]       The  Merchant  of  Venice  115 

Enter  NERISSA,  dressed  like  a  lawyer's  clerk 

Duke.   Came  you  from  Padua,  from  Bellario  ? 

'Nerissa.    From  both,  my  lord.     Bellario  greets  your 
grace.  [Presenting  a  letter. 

Bassanio.    Why  dost  thou  whet  thy  knife  so  earnestly? 

Shylock.   To  cut  the  forfeiture  from  that  bankrupt 
there. 

Gratiano.    Not  on  thy  sole,  but  on  thy  soul,  harsh  Jew, 
Thou  mak'st  thy  knife  keen ;  but  no  metal  can, 
No,  not  the  hangman's  axe,  bear  half  the  keenness     120 
Of  thy  sharp  envy.     Can  no  prayers  pierce  thee  ? 

Shylock.    No,  none  that  thou  hast  wit  enough  to  make. 

Gratiano.    O,  be  thou  damn'd,  inexorable  dogl 
And  for  thy  life  let  justice  be  accus'd ! 
Thou  almost  mak'st  me  waver  in  my  faith, 
To  hold  opinion  with  Pythagoras, 
That  souls  of  animals  infuse  themselves 
Into  the  trunks  of  men.     Thy  currish  spirit 
Govern 'd  a  wolf,  who,  hang'd  for  human  slaughter, 
Even  from  the  gallows  did  his  fell  soul  fleet,  130 

And,  whilst  thou  lay'st  in  thy  unhallow'd  dam, 
Infus'd  itself  in  thee  ;  for  thy  desires 
Are  wolvish,  bloody,  starved,  and  ravenous. 

Shylock.   Till  thou  canst  rail  the  seal  from  off  my  bond 
Thou  but  offend'st  thy  lungs  to  speak  so  loud. 
Repair  thy  wit,  good  youth,  or  it  will  fall 
To  cureless  ruin.  —  I  stand  here  for  law. 

Duke.   This  letter  from  Bellario  doth  commend 


n6  The  Merchant  of  Venice         [Act  IV 

A  young  and  learned  doctor  to  our  court. — 
Where  is  he  ? 

Nerissa.          He  attendeth  here  hard  by,  140 

To  know  your  answer,  whether  you  '11  admit  him. 

Duke.   With  all  my  heart.  —  Some  three  or  four  of 

you 

Go  give  him  courteous  conduct  to  this  place.  — 
Meantime,  the  court  shall  hear  Bellario's  letter. 

Clerk.  [Reads]  '  Your  grace  shall  understand  that 
at  the  receipt  of  your  letter  I  am  very  sick;  but  in  the 
instant  that  your  messenger  came,  in  loving  visitation 
was  with  me  a  young  doctor  of  Rome ;  his  name  is 
Balthasar.  I  acquainted  him  with  the  cause  in  con- 
troversy between  the  Jew  and  Antonio  the  merchant ;  150 
we  turned  c?er  many  books  together.  He  is  furnished 
with  my  opinion,  which,  bettered  with  his  own  learning, 
the  greatness  whereof  I  cannot  enough  commend,  comes 
with  him,  at  my  importunity,  to  fill  up  your  graced 
request  in  my  stead.  I  beseech  you,  let  his  lack  of  years 
be  no  impediment  to  let  him  lack  a  reverend  estimation  ; 
for  I  never  knew  so  young  a  body  with  so  old  a  head. 
I  leave  him  to  your  gracious  acceptance,  whose  trial 
shall  better  publish  his  commendation.'' 

Duke.  You  hear  the  learn'd  Bellario,  what  he  writes;  160 
And  here,  I  take  it,  is  the  doctor  come.  — 

Enter  PORTIA,  dressed  like  a  doctor  of  laws 

Give  me  your  hand.     Came  you  from  old  Bellario  ? 
Portia,    I  did,  my  lord. 


Scene  I]        The  Merchant  of  Venice  117 

Duke.  You  are  welcome  ;  take  your  place. 

Are  you  acquainted  with  the  difference 
That  holds  this  present  question  in  the  court  ? 

Portia.    I  am  informed  throughly  of  the  cause. 
Which  is  the  merchant  here,  and  which  the  Jew  ? 

Duke.    Antonio  and  old  Shylock,  both  stand  forth. 

Portia.    Is  your  name  Shylock  ? 

Shylock.  Shylock  is  my  name. 

Portia*   Of  a  strange  nature  is  the  suit  you  follow,  170 
Yet  in  such  rule  that  the  Venetian  law 
Cannot  impugn  you  as  you  do  proceed.  — 
You  stand  within  his  danger,  do  you  not? 

Antonio.    Ay,  so  he  says. 

Portia.  Do  you  confess  the  bond  ? 

Antonio.    I  do. 

Portia.  Then  must  the  Jew  be  merciful. 

Shylock.   On  what  compulsion  must  I  ?  tell  me  that. 

Portia.    The  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strain 'd  ; 
It  droppeth  as  the  gentle  rain  from  heaven 
Upon  the  place  beneath.     It  is  twice  blest; 
It  blesseth  him  that  gives  and  him  that  takes.  180 

'T  is  mightiest  in  the  mightiest ;  it  becomes 
The  throned  monarch  better  than  his  crown. 
His  sceptre  shows  the  force  of  temporal  power, 
The  attribute  to  awe  and  majesty, 
Wherein  doth  sit  the  dread  and  fear  of  kings ; 
But  mercy  is  above  this  sceptred  sway ; 
It  is  enthroned  in  the  hearts  of  kings, 
[t  is  an  attribute  to  God  himself ; 


n8  The  Merchant  of  Venice        [Act  IV 

And  earthly  power  doth  then  show  likest  God's 

When  mercy  seasons  justice.     Therefore,  Jew,  190 

Though  justice  be  thy  plea,  consider  this,  — 

That,  in  the  course  of  justice,  none  of  us 

Should  see  salvation ;  we  do  pray  for  mercy, 

And  that  same  prayer  doth  teach  us  all  to  render 

The  deeds  of  mercy.     I  have  spoke  thus  much 

To  mitigate  the  justice  of  thy  plea, 

Which  if  thou  follow,  this  strict  court  of  Venice 

Must  needs  give  sentence  'gainst  the  merchant  there. 

Shy  lock.    My  deeds  upon  my  head !     I  crave  the  law, 
The  penalty  and  forfeit  of  my  bond.  2ou 

Portia.    Is  he  not  able  to  discharge  the  money  ? 

Bassanio.    Yes,  here  I  tender  it  for  him  in  the  court 
Yea,  twice  the  sum.     If  that  will  not  suffice, 
I  will  be  bound  to  pay  it  ten  times  o'er, 
On  forfeit  of  my  hands,  my  head,  my  heart ; 
If  this  will  not  suffice,  it  must  appear 
That  malice  bears  down  truth.     And  I  beseech  you, 
Wrest  once  the  law  to  your  authority ; 
To  do  a  great  right,  do  a  little  wrong, 
And  curb  this  cruel  devil  of  his  will.  210 

Portia.   It  must  not  be.     There  is  no  power  in  Venice 
Can  alter  a  decree  established ; 
'T  will  be  recorded  for  a  precedent, 
And  many  an  error  by  the  same  example 
Will  rush  into  the  state.     It  cannot  be. 

Shylock.   A  Daniel  come  to  judgment !  yea,  a  Daniel  1 
O  wise  young  judge,  how  do  I  honour  thee ! 


Scene  I]       The  Merchant  of  Venice  119 

Portia.   I  pray  you,  let  me  look  upon  the  bond. 

Shy  lock.    Here  't  is,  most  reverend  doctor,  here  it  is* 

Portia.    Shylock,  there  's  thrice  thy  money  offer'd  thee. 

Shylock.   An  oath,  an  oath,  I  have  an  oath  in  heaven ; 
Shall  I  lay  perjury  upon  my  soul  ?  22* 

No,  not  for  Venice. 

Portia.  Why,  this  bond  is  forfeit ; 

And  lawfully  by 'this  the  Jew  may  claim 
A  pound  of  flesh,  to  be  by  him  cut  off 
Nearest  the  merchant's  heart.  —  Be  merciful; 
Take  thrice  thy  money;  bid  me  tear  the  bond. 

Shylock.   When  it  is  paid  according  to  the  tenour.  — 
It  doth  appear  you  are  a  worthy  judge ; 
You  know  the  law  ;  your  exposition  230 

Hath  been  most  sound.     I  charge  you  by  the  law, 
Whereof  you  are  a  well-deserving  pillar, 
Proceed  to  judgment.     By  my  soul  I  swear, 
There  is  no  power  in  the  tongue  of  man 
Tc  alter  me.     I  stay  here  on  my  bond. 

Antonio.   Most  heartily  I  do  beseech  the  court 
To  give  the  judgment. 

Portia.  Why  then,  thus  it  is: 

You  must  prepare  your  bosom  for  his  knife. 

Shylock.   O  noble  judge  !     O  excellent  young  man  \ 

Portia.    For  the  intent  and  purpose  of  the  law        240 
Hath  full  relation  to  the  penalty, 
Which  here  appeareth  due  upon  the  bond. 

Shylock.    'T  is  very  true.     O  wise  and  upright  judge 
How  much  more  elder  art  thou  than  thy  looks ! 


120  The  Merchant  of  Venice        [Act  iv 

Portia.    Therefore  lay  bare  your  bosom. 

Shy  lock.  Ay,  his  breast ; 

So  says  the  bond  —  doth  it  not,  noble  judge?  — 
Nearest  his  heart ;  those  are  the  very  words. 

Portia.   It  is  so.     Are  there  balance  here  to  weigh 
the  flesh  ? 

Shylock.    I  have  them  ready. 

Portia.   Have  by  some  surgeon,  Shylock,  on   your 
charge,  250 

To  stop  his  wounds,  lest  he  do  bleed  to  death. 

Shylock.    Is  it  so  nominated  in  the  bond  ? 

Portia.    It  is  not  so  express 'd  ;  but  what  of  that  ? 
'T  were  good  you  do  so  much  for  charity. 

Shylock.    I  cannot  find  it ;  -t  is  not  in  the  bond. 

Portia.    You,  merchant,  have  you  any  thing  to  say  ? 

Antonio.    But  little  ;  I  am  arm'd  and  well  prepar'd.  — 
Give  me  your  hand,  Bassanio ;  fare  you  well ! 
Grieve  not  that  I  am  fallen  to  this  for  you ; 
For  herein  Fortune  shows  herself  more  kind  260 

Than  is  her  custom.     It  is  still  her  use 
To  let  the  wretched  man  outlive  his  wealth, 
To  view  with  hollow  eye  and  wrinkled  brow 
An  age  of  poverty;  from  which  lingering  penance 
Of  such  misery  doth  she  cut  me  off. 
Commend  me  to  your  honourable  wife. 
Tell  her  the  process  of  Antonio's  end ; 
Say  how  I  lov'd  you,  speak  me  fair  in  death, 
And  when  the  tale  is  told  bid  her  be  judge 
Whether  Bassanio  had  not  once  a  love.  270 


Scene  I]       The  Merchant  of  Venice  121 

Repent  not  you  that  you  shall  lose  your  friend, 
And  he  repents  not  that  he  pays  your  debt ; 
For  if  the  Jew  do  cut  but  deep  enough, 
I  '11  pay  it  instantly  with  all  my  heart. 

Bassanio.   Antonio,  I  am  married  to  a  wife 
Which  is  as  dear  to  me  as  life  itself ; 
But  life  itself,  my  wife,  and  all  the  world, 
Are  not  with  me  esteem 'd  above  thy  life. 
I  would  lose  all,  ay,  sacrifice  them  all 
Here  to  this  devil,  to  deliver  you.  280 

Portia.  Your  wife  would  give  you  little  thanks  for  that,  * 
If  she  were  by  to  hear  you  make  the  offer. 

Gratiano.    I  have  a  wife,  whom,  I  protest,  I  love ; 
I  would  she  were  in  heaven,  so  she  could 
Entreat  some  power  to  change  this  currish  Jew. 

Nerissa.    'T  is  well  you  offer  it  behind  her  back ; 
The  wish  would  make  else  an  unquiet  house. 

Shylock.  [Aside]  These  be  the  Christian   husbands. 

I  have  a  daughter ; 
Would  any  of  the  stock  of  Barrabas 
Had  been  her  husband  rather  than  a  Christian  !  —    290 
[To  Portia]  We  trifle  time  ;  I  pray  thee,  pursue  sentence. 

Portia.   A  pound  of  that  same  merchant's  flesh  is 

thine ; 
The  court  awards  it,  and  the  law  doth  give  it. 

Shylock.    Most  rightful  judge  ! 

Portia.  And   you   must   cut  this  flesh  from  off  his 

breast ; 
The  law  allows  it,  and  the  court  awards  it. 


122  The  Merchant  of  Venice        [Act  IV 

Shylock.   Most  learned  judge  I  —  A  sentence  1     Come, 
prepare  1 

Portia.   Tarry  a  little  ;  there  is  something  else. 
This  bond  doth  give  thee  here  no  jot  of  blood ; 
The  words  expressly  are,  a  pound  of  flesh.  300 

Take  then  thy  bond,  take  thou  thy  pound  of  flesh  ; 
But,  in  the  cutting  it,  if  thou  dost  shed 
One  drop  of  Christian  blood,  thy  lands  and  goods 
Are,  by  the  laws  of  Venice,  confiscate 
Unto  the  state  of  Venice. 

Gratiano.     O    upright    judge  !  —  Mark,    Jew  1  —  O 
learned  judge ! 

Shylock.    Is  that  the  law  ? 

Portia.  Thyself  shalt  see  the  act  ; 

For,  as  thou  urgest  justice,  be  assur'd 
Thou  shalt  have  justice,  more  than  thou  desirest. 

Gratiano.   O  learned  judge !  —  Mark  Jew ! — a  learned 
judge !  310 

Shylock.   I  take  this  offer,  then  ;  pay  the  bond  thrice. 
And  let  the  Christian  go. 

Bassanio.  Here  is  the  money. 

Portia.    Soft! 

The  Jew  shall  have  all  justice  ;  —  soft  1  no  haste :  — 
He  shall  have  nothing  but  the  penalty. 

Gratiano.   O  Jew !  an  upright  judge,  a  learned  judge  1 

Portia.   Therefore  prepare  thee  to  cut  off  the  flesh. 
Shed  thou  no  blood,  nor  cut  thou  less  nor  more 
But  just  a  pound  of  flesh  ;  if  thou  tak'st  more 
Or  less  than  a  just  pound,  be  it  but  so  much  y.r 


Scene  I]        The  Merchant  of  Venice  123 

As  makes  it  light  or  heavy  in  the  substance, 

Or  the  division  of  the  twentieth  part 

Of  one  poor  scruple  —  nay,  if  the  scale  do  turn 

But  in  the  estimation  of  a  hair, 

Thou  diest,  and  all  thy  goods  are  confiscate. 

Gratiano.   A  second  Daniel,  a  Daniel,  Jew ! 
Now,  infidel,  I  have  thee  on  the  hip. 

Portia.  Why  doth  the  Jew  pause?  —  Take  thy  for- 
feiture. 

Shylock.   Give  me  my  principal,  and  let  me  go. 

Bassanio.    I  have  it  ready  for  thee  ;  here  it  is.         330 

Portia.   He  hath  refus'd  it  in  the  open  court ; 
He  shall  have  merely  justice  and  his  bond. 

Gratiano.   A  Daniel,  still  say  I,  a  second  Daniel ! 
I  thank  thee,  Jew,  for  teaching  me  that  word. 

Shylock.    Shall  I  not  have  barely  my  principal  ? 

Portia.   Thou  shalt  have  nothing  but  the  forfeiture, 
To  be  so  taken  at  thy  peril,  Jew. 

Shylock.    Why,  then  the  devil  give  him  good  of  it  1 
I  '11  stay  no  longer  question. 

Portia.  Tarry,  Jew ; 

The  law  hath  yet  another  hold  on  you.  340 

It  is  enacted  in  the  laws  of  Venice, 
If  it  be  prov'd  against  an  alien 
That  by  direct  or  indirect  attempts 
He  seek  the  life  of  any  citizen, 
The  party  'gainst  the  which  he  doth  contrive 
Shall  seize  one  half  his  goods  ;  the  other  half 
Comes  to  the  privy  coffer  of  the  state ; 


124  The  Merchant  of  Venice        [Act  iv 

And  the  offender's  life  lies  in  the  mercy 

Of  the  duke  only,  'gainst  all  other  voice. 

In  which  predicament,  I  say,  thou  stand'st ;  350 

For  it  appears,  by  manifest  proceeding, 

That  indirectly,  and  directly  too, 

Thou  hast  contriv'd  against  the  very  life 

Of  the  defendant,  and  thou  hast  incurr'd 

The  danger  formerly  by  me  rehears'd. 

Down  therefore,  and  beg  mercy  of  the  duke. 

Gratiano.    Beg  that  thou  mayst  have  leave  to  hang 

thyself: 

And  yet,  thy  wealth  being  forfeit  to  the  state, 
Thou  hast  not  left  the  value  of  a  cord ; 
Therefore  thou  must  be  hang'd  at  the  state's  charge.  360 

Duke.  That  thou  shalt  see  the  difference  of  our  spirits, 
I  pardon  thee  thy  life  before  thou  ask  it. 
.  For  half  thy  wealth,  it  is  Antonio's  ; 
The  other  half  comes  to  the  general  state, 
Which  humbleness  may  drive  unto  a  fine. 

Portia.    Ay,  for  the  state,  not  for  Antonio. 

Shy  lock.    Nay,  take  my  life  and  all ;  pardon  not  that. 
You  take  my  house  when  you  do  take  the  prop 
That  doth  sustain  my  house ;  you  take  my  life 
When  you  do  take  the  means  whereby  I  live.  370 

Portia.  W7hat  mercy  can  you  render  him,  Antonio  ? 

Gratiano.  A  halter  gratis ;  nothing  else,  for  God's  sake. 

Antonio.    So  please  my  lord  the  duke  and  all  the  court 
To  quit  the  fine  for  one  half  of  his  goods, 
I  am  content,  so  he  will  let  me  have 


Scene  I]        The  Merchant  of  Venice  125 

The  other  half  in  use,  to  render  it, 

Upon  his  death,  unto  the  gentleman 

That  lately  stole  his  daughter. 

Two  things  provided  more,  —  that,  for  this  favour, 

He  presently  become  a  Christian  ;  380 

The  other,  that  he  do  record  a  gift, 

Here  in  the  court,  of  all  he  dies  possess 'd, 

Unto  his  son  Lorenzo  and  his  daughter. 

Duke.    He  shall  do  this,  or  else  I  do  recant 
The  pardon  that  I  late  pronounced  here. 

Portia.    Art  thou  contented,  Jew  ?  what  dost  thou  say  ? 

Shylock.    I  am  content. 

Portia.  Clerk,  draw  a  deed  of  gift. 

Shylock.    I  pray  you,  give  me  leave  to  go  from  hence  ; 
I  am  not  well.     Send  the  deed  after  me, 
And  I  will  sign  it. 

Duke.  Get  thee  gone,  but  do  it.  390 

Gratiano.    In  christening  thou  shalt  have  two  god- 
fathers ; 

Had  I  been  judge,  thou  shouldst  have  had  ten  more, 
To  bring  thee  to  the  gallows,  not  the  font.    \Exit  Shylock. 

Duke.    Sir,  I  entreat  you  home  with  me  to  dinner. 

Portia.    I  humbly  do  desire  your  grace  of  pardon  ; 
I  must  away  this  night  toward  Padua, 
And  it  is  meet  I  presently  set  forth. 

Duke.    I  am  sorry  that  your  leisure  serves  you  not.  — 
Antonio,  gratify  this  gentleman, 

For,  in  my  mind,  you  are  much  bound  to  him.  400 

[Exeunt  Duke  and  his  train. 


126  The  Merchant  of  Venice        [Act  iv 

Bassanio.   Most  worthy  gentleman,  I  and  my  friend 
Have  by  your  wisdom  been  this  day  acquitted 
Of  grievous  penalties  ;  in  lieu  whereof 
Three  thousand  ducats,  due  unto  the  Jew, 
We  freely  cope  your  courteous  pains  withal. 

Antonio.    And  stand  indebted,  over  and  above, 
In  love  and  service  to  you  evermore. 

Portia.   He  is  well  paid  that  is  well  satisfied ; 
And  I,  delivering  you,  am  satisfied, 
And  therein  do  account  myself  well  paid.  410 

My  mind  was  never  yet  more  mercenary. 
I  pray  you,  know  me  when  we  meet  again ; 
I  wish  you  well,  and  so  I  take  my  leave. 

.Bassanio.    Dear  sir,  of  force  I  must   attempt  you 

further. 

Take  some  remembrance  of  us,  as  a  tribute, 
Not  as  a  fee ;  grant  me  two  things,  I  pray  you, 
Not  to  deny  me,  and  to  pardon  me. 

Portia.  You  press  me  far,  and  therefore  I  will  yield.  — 
\To  Antonio'}  Give  me  your  gloves,  I'll  wear  them  for 

your  sake ;  — 

\To  Bassanio~\  And,  for  your  love,  I'll  take  this  ring 
from  you.  —  420 

Do  not  draw  back  your  hand ;  I'll  take  no  more, 
And  you  in  love  shall  not  deny  me  this. 

Bassanio.    This  ring,  good  sir,  —  alas  !  it  is  a  trifle ; 
I  will  not  shame  myself  to  give  you  this. 

Portia.    I  will  have^  nothing  else  but  only  this  ; 
And  now  methinks  I  have  a  mind  to  it. 


Scene  I]        The   Merchant  of  Venice  127 

Bassanio.   There's  more  depends  on  this  than  on  the 

value. 

The  dearest  ring  in  Venice  will  I  give  you, 
And  find  it  out  by  proclamation ; 
Only  for  this,  I  pray  you,  pardon  me.  430 

Portia.  I  see,  sir,  you  are  liberal  in  offers; 
You  taught  me  first  to  beg,  and  now  methinks 
You  teach  me  how  a  beggar  should  be  answered. 

Bassanio.   Good  sir,  this  ring  was  given  me  by  my 

wife ; 

And  when  she  put  it  on  she  made  me  vow 
That  I  should  neither  sell,  nor  give,  nor  lose  it. 

Portia.    That  'scuse  serves  many  men  to  save  their 

gifts ; 

And  if  your  wife  be  not  a  mad  woman, 
And  know  how  well  I  have  deserv'd  the  ring, 
She  would  not  hold  out  enemy  for  ever,  440 

For  giving  it  to  me.     Well,  peace  be  with  you  I 

[Exeunt  Portia  and  Nerissa. 

Antonio.   My  lord  Bassanio,  let  him  have  the  ring ; 
Let  his  deservings  and  my  love  withal 
Be  valued  'gainst  your  wife's  commandement. 

Bassanio.   Go,  Gratiano,  run  and  overtake  him  ; 
Give  him  the  ring,  and  bring  him,  if  thou  canst, 
Unto  Antonio's  house.     Away  !  make  haste. — 

\Exit  Gratiano. 

Come,  you  and  I  willthither  presently ; 
And  in  the  morning  early  will  we  both 
Fly  toward  Belmont.     Come,  Antonio.          [Exeunt.  450 


128  The  Merchant  of  Venice         [Act  IV 

SCENE  II.     The  Same.     A  Street 
Enter  PORTIA  and  NERISSA 

Portia.    Inquire  the  Jew's  house  out,  give  him  this 

deed, 

And  let  him  sign  it ;  we  '11  away  to-night, 
And  be  a  day  before  our  husbands  home. 
This  deed  will  be  well  welcome  to  Lorenzo. 

Enter  GRATIANO 

Gratiano.    Fair  sir,  you  are  well  o'erta'en  ; 
My  lord  Bassanio,  upon  more  advice, 
Hath  sent  you  here  this  ring,  and  doth  entreat 
Your  company  at  dinner. 

Portia.  That  cannot  be. 

His  ring  I  do  accept  most  thankfully, 
And  so,  I  pray  you,  tell  him  ;  furthermore,  10 

I  pray  you,  show  my  youth  old  Shylock's  house. 

Gratiano.    That  will  I  do. 

Nerissa.  Sir,  I  would  -peak  with  you.  — 

[Aside  to  Portia~\  I  '11  see  if  I  can  get  my  husband's  ring, 
Which  I  did  make  him  swear  to  keep  for  ever. 

Portia.    [Aside  to  Nerissd\    Thou  mayst,  I  warrant. 

We  shall  have  old  swearing 
That  they  did  give  the  rings  away  to  men ; 
But  we  '11  outface  them,  and  outs  wear  them  too. 
Away  !  make  haste  ;  thou  know'st  where  I  will  tarry. 

Nerissa.    Come,  good  sir,  will  you  show  me  to  this 
house?  {Exeunt. 


GARDEN  SCENE 


ACT  V 

SCENE  I.     Belmont.     Avenue  to  Portia's  House 
Enter  LORENZO  and  JESSICA 

Lorenzo.   The  moon  shines  bright.     In  such  a  night 

as  this, 

When  the  sweet  wind  did  gently  kiss  the  trees 
And  they  did  make  no  noise  —  in  such  a  night, 
Troilus  methinks  mounted  the  Trojan  walls, 
And  sigh'd  his  soul  toward  the  Grecian  tents, 
Where  Cressid  lay  that  night. 

HER.   OF  YEN.  —  9  129 


ijo  The  Merchant  of  Venice          [Act  v 

Jessica.  In  such  a  night, 

Did  Thisbe  fearfully  o'ertrip  the  dew, 
And  saw  the  lion's  shadow  ere  himself, 
And  ran  dismay'd  away. 
.  Lorenzo.  In  such  a  night, 

Stood  Dido  with  a  willow  in  her  hand  .to 

Upon  the  wild  sea  banks,  and  waft  her  love 
To  come  again  to  Carthage. 

Jessica.  .    In  such  a  night , 

Medea  gather 'd  the  enchanted  herbs 
That  did  renew  old  ^Eson. 

Lorenzo.  In  such  a  night, 

Did  Jessica  steal  from  the  wealthy  Jew, 
And  with  an  unthrift  love  did  run  from  Venice 
As  far  as  Belmont. 

Jessica.  In  such  a  night, 

Did  young  Lorenzo  swear  he  lov'd  her  well, 
Stealing  her  soul  with  many  vows  of  faith, 
And  ne'er  a  true  one. 

Lorenzo.  In  such  a  night,      •  20 

Did  pretty  Jessica,  like  a  little  shrew, 
Slander  her  love,  and  he  forgave  it  her. 

Jessica.   I  would  out-night  you,  did  nobody  come  ; 
But,  hark,  I  hear  the  footing  of  a  man. 

Enter  STEPHANO 

Lorenzo.   Who  comes  so  fast  in  silence  of  the  night  ? 
Stephana.    A  friend. 


Scene  I]        The  Merchant  of  Venice  131 

Lorenzo.  A  friend  !  what  friend  ?  your  name,  I  pray 
you,  friend  ? 

Stephano.    Stephano  is  my  name,  and  I  bring  word 
My  mistress  will  before  the  break  of  day 
Be  here  at  Belmont ;  she  doth  stray  about  30 

By  holy  crosses,  where  she  kneels  and  prays 
For  happy  wedlock  hours. 

Lorenzo.  Who  comes  with  her  ? 

Stephano.    None  but  a  holy  hermit  and  her  maid. 
I  pray  you,  is  my  master  yet  return 'd  ? 

Lorenzo.    He  is  not,  nor  we   have    not   heard   from 

him. — 

But  go  we  in,  I  pray  thee,  Jessica, 
And  ceremoniously  let  us  prepare 
Some  welcome  for  the  mistress  of  the  house. 

Enter  LAUNCELOT 

Launcelot.    Sola,  sola !  wo  ha,  ho  !  sola,  sola ! 

Lorenzo.    Who  calls  ?  40 

Launcelot.  Sola  !  did  you  see  Master  Lorenzo  and 
Mistress  Lorenzo  ?  sola,  sola ! 

Lorenzo.   Leave  hollaing,  man  ;  here. 

Launcelot.    Sola  !  where  ?  where  ? 

Lorenzo.    Here. 

Launcelot.  Tell  him  there  's  a,  post  come  from  my 
master,  with  his  horn  full  of  good  news  ;  my  master  will 
be  here  ere  morning.  \Exit. 

Lorenzo.  Sweet  soul,  let  's  in,  and  there  expect  their 
coming. 


132  The  Merchant  of  Venice          [Act  V 

And  yet  no  matter  ;  why  should  we  go  in  ?  —  50 

My  friend  Stephano,  signify,  I  pray  you, 
Within  the  house,  your  mistress  is  at  hand ; 
And  bring  your  music  forth  into  the  air.  — 

[Exit  Stephano. 

How  sweet  the  moonlight  sleeps  upon  this  bank  1 
Here  will  we  sit  and  let  the  sounds  of  music 
Creep  in  our  ears  ;  soft  stillness  and  the  night 
Become  the  touches  of  sweet  harmony. 
Sit;  Jessica.     Look  how  the  floor  of  heaven 
Is  thick  inlaid  with  patines  of  bright  gold. 
There  's  not  the  smallest  orb  which  thou  behold'st      60 
But  in  his  motion  like  an  angel  sings, 
Still  quiring  to  the  young-eyed  cherubins ; 
Such  harmony  is  in  immortal  souls, 
But  whilst  this  muddy  vesture  of  decay 
Doth  grossly  close  it  in,  we  cannot  hear  it.  — 

Enter  Musicians 

Come,  ho !  and  wake  Diana  with  a  hymn ; 

With  sweetest  touches  pierce  your  mistress'  ear, 

And  draw  her  home  with  music. ,     .  [Music. 

Jessica.    I  am  never  merry  when  I  hear  sweet  music. 

Lorenzo.    The  reason  is,  your  spirits  are  attentive.    70 
For  do  but  note  a  wild  and' wanton  herd, 
Or  race  of  youthful  and  unhandled  colts, 
Fetching  mad  bounds,  bellowing  and  neighing  loud, 
Which  is  the  hot  condition  of  their  blood ; 
If  they  but  hear  perchance  a  trumpet  sound, 


Scene  I]        The  Merchant  of  Venice  133 

Or  any  air  of  music  touch  their  ears, 

You  shall  perceive  them  make  a  mutual  stand, 

Their  savage  eyes  turn'd  to  a  modest  gaze 

By  the  sweet  power  of  music.     Therefore  the  poet 

Did  feign  that  Orpheus  drew  trees,  stones,  and  floods ;  80 

Since  nought  so  stockish,  hard,  and  full  of  rage, 

But  music  for  the  time  doth  change  his  nature. 

The  man  that  hath  no  music  in  himself, 

Nor  is  not  mov'd  with  concord  of  sweet  sounds, 

Is  fit  for  treasons,  stratagems,  and  spoils  ; 

The  motions  of  his  spirit  are  dull  as  night, 

And  his  affections  dark  as  Erebus. 

Let  no  such  man  be  trusted.  —  Mark  the  music. 

Enter  PORTIA  and  NERISSA 

Portia.   That  light  we  see  is  burning  in  my  hall. 
How  far  that  little  candle  throws  his  beams  1  90 

So  shines  a  good  deed  in  a  naughty  world. 

Nerissa,   When  the  moon  shone,  we  did  not  see  the 
candle. 

Portia.    So  doth  the  greater  glory  dim  the  less ; 
A  substitute  shines  brightly  as  a  king 
Until  a  king  be  by,  and  then  his  state 
Empties  itself,  as  doth  an  inland  brook 
Into  the  main  of  waters.  —  Music  !  hark ! 

Nerissa.   It  is  your  music,  madam,  of  the  house. 

Portia.   Nothing  is  good,  I  see,  without  respect ; 
Methinks  it  sounds  much  sweeter  than  by  day.  100 

Nerissa.    Silence  bestows  that  virtue  on  it,  madam. 


134  The  Merchant  of  Venice          [Act  V 

Portia.    The  crow  doth  sing  as  sweetly  as  the  lark 
When  neither  is  attended ;  and  I  think 
The  nightingale,  if  she  should  sing  by  day 
When  every  goose  is  cackling,  would  be  thought 
No  better  a  musician  than  the  wren. 
How  many  things  by  season  season'd  are 
To  their  right  praise  and  true  perfection  !  — 
Peace,  ho !  the  moon  sleeps  with  Endymion, 
And  would  not  be  awak'd.  [Music  ceases. 

Lorenzo.  That  is  the  voice,  no 

Or  I  am  much  deceiv'd,  of  Portia. 

Portia.    He  knows  me  as  the  blind  man  knows  the 

cuckoo, 
By  the  bad  voice. 

Lorenzo.  Dear  lady,  welcome  home. 

Portia.    We  have   been   praying  for  our  husbands 

welfare, 

Which  speed,  we  hope,  the  better  for  our  words. 
Are  they  return'd? 

Lorenzo.  Madam,  they  are  not  yet ; 

But  there  is  come  a  messenger  before, 
To  signify  their  coming. 

Portia.  Go  in,  Nerissa  ; 

Give  order  to  my  servants  that  they  take 
No  note  at  all  of  our  being  absent  hence  ;  — 
Nor  you,  Lorenzo ;  — •  Jessica,  nor  you.     [A  tucket  sounds 

Lorenzo.  Your  husband  is  at  hand ;  I  hear  his  trumpet. 
We  are  no  tell-tales,  madam  ;  fear  you  not. 

Portia.    This  night  methinks  is  but  the  daylight  sick, 


Scene  I]        The  Merchant  of  Venice  135 

It  looks  a  little  paler ;  't  is  a  day 
Such  as  the  day  is  when  the  sun  is  hid. 

Enter  BASSANIO,  ANTONIO,  GRATIANO,  and  their 
followers 

Bassanio.   We  should  hold  day  with  the  Antipodes 
[f  you  would  walk  in  absence  of  the  sun. 

Portia.   Let  me  give  light,  but  let  me  not  be  light ; 
For  a  light  wife  doth  make  a  heavy  husband,  130 

And  never  be  Bassanio  so  for  me. 
But  God  sort  all !     You  are  welcome  home,  my  lord. 

Bassanio.    I  thank  you,  madam.     Give  welcome  to 

my  friend. 

This  is  the  man,  this  is  Antonio, 
To  whom  I  am  so  infinitely  bound. 

Portia.  You  should  in  all  sense  be  much  bound  to  him, 
For,  as  I  hear,  he  was  much  bound  for  you. 

Antonio.    No  more  than  I  am  well  acquitted  of. 

Portia.    Sir,  you  are  very  welcome  to  our  house ; 
It  must  appear  in  other  ways  than  words,  140 

Therefore  I  scant  this  breathing  courtesy. 

Gratiano.    \To  Nerissd\  By  yonder  moon  I  swear  you 

do  me  wrong ; 
In  faith,  I  gave  it  to  the  judge's  clerk. 

Portia.   A  quarrel,  ho,  already !  what  's  the  matter  ? 

Gratiano.    About  a  hoop  of  gold,  a  paltry  ring 
That  she  did  give  me,  whose  poesy  was 
For  all  the  world  like  cutler's  poetry 
Upon  a  knife,  '  Love  me,  and  leave  me  not.' 


136  The  Merchant  of  Venice          [Act  v 

Nerissa.   What  talk  you  of  the  poesy  or  the  value  ? 
You  swore,  to  me,  when  I  did  give  it  you,  150 

That  you  would  wear  it  till  the  hour  of  death, 
And  that  it  should  lie  with  you  in  your  grave ; 
Though  not  for  me,  yet  for  your  vehement  oaths, 
You  should  have  been  respective  and  have  kept  it. 
Gave  it  a  judge's  clerk !  but  well  I  know 
The  clerk  will  ne'er  wear  hair  on  's  face  that  had  it. 

Gratiano.   He  will,  an  if  he  live  to  be  a  man. 

Nerissa.   Ay,  if  a  woman  live  to  be  a  man. 

Gratiano.   Now,  by  this  hand,  I  gave  it  to  a  youth, 
A  kind  of  .boy,  a  little  scrubbed  boy,  ,      160 

No  higher  than  thyself,  the  judge's  clerk, 
A  prating  boy,  that  begg'd  it  as  'a  fee  ; 
I  could  not  for  my  heart  deny  it  him. 

Portia.   You  were  to  blame,  I  must  be  plain  with  you, 
To  part  so  slightly  with  your  wife's  first  gift ; 
A  thing  stuck  on  with  oaths  upon  your  finger, 
And  so  riveted  with  faith  unto  your  flesh. 
I  gave  my  love  a  ring,  and  made  him  swear 
Never  to  part  with  it ;  and  here  he  stands. 
I  dare  be  sworn  for  him,  he  would  not  leave  it,  170 

Nor  pluck  it  from  his  finger,  for  the  wealth 
That  the  world  masters.     Now,  in  faith,  Gratiano, 
You  give  your  wife  too  unkind  a  cause  of  grief ; 
An  >t  were  to  me,  I  should  be  mad  at  it. 

Bassanio.   \Aside\  Why,  I  were  best  to  cut  my  left 

hand  off, 
And  swear  I  lost  the  ring 'defending  it. 


Scene  I]       The  Merchant  of  Venice  137 

Gratiano.   My  lord  Bassanio  gave  his  ring  away 
Unto  the  judge  that  begg'd  it,  and  indeed 
Deserv'd  it  too ;  and  then  the  boy,  his  clerk, 
That  took  some  pains  in  writing,  he  begg'd  mine ;      180 
And  neither  man  nor  master  would  take  aught 
But  the  two  rings. 

Portia.  What  ring  gave  you,  my  lord  ? 

Not  that,  I  hope,  which  you  receiv'd  of  me. 

Bassanio.   If  I  could  add  a  lie  unto  a  fault, 
I  would  deny  it,  but  you  see  my  finger 
Hath  not  the  ring  upon  it ;  ij;  is  gone. 

Portia.   Even  so  void  is  your  false  heart  of  truth. 
By  heaven,  I  will  ne'er  come  in  your  bed 
Until  I  see  the  ring. 

Nerissa.  Nor  I  in  yours 

Till  I  again  see  mine. 

Bassanio.  Sweet  Portia,  190 

If  you  did  know  to  whom  I  gave  the  ring, 
If  you  did  know  for  whom  I  gave  the  ring, 
And  would  conceive  for  what  I  gave  the  ring, 
And  how  unwillingly  I  left  the  ring, 
When  nought  would  be  accepted  but  the  ring, 
You  would  abate  the  strength  of  your  displeasure. 

Portia.   If  you  had  known  the  virtue  of  the  ring, 
Or  half  her  worthiness  that  gave  the  ring, 
Or  your  own  honour  to  contain  the  ring, 
You  would  not  then  have  parted  with  the  ring.  200 

What  man  is  there  so  much  unreasonable, 
If  you  had  pleas'd  to  have  defended  it 


138  The  Merchant  of  Venice          [Act  V 

With  any  terms  of  zeal,  wanted  the  modesty 
To  urge  the  thing  heM  as  a  ceremony  ? 
Nerissa  teaches  me  what  to  believe  ; 
I  '11  die  for  1t  but  some  woman  had  the  ring. 

Bassanio.    No,  by  my  honour,  madam,  by  my  soul, 
No  woman  had  it,  but  a  civil  doctor, 
Which  did  refuse  three  thousand  ducats  of  me, 
And  begg'd  the  ring ;  the  which  I  did  deny  him,        210 
And  suffer'd  him  to  go  displeas'd  away, 
Even  he  that  did  uphold  the  very  life 
Of  my  dear  friend.     What  should  I  say,  sweet  lady? 
I  was  enforc'd  to  send  it  after  him  ; 
I  was  beset  with  shame  and  courtesy;* 
My  honour  would  not  let  ingratitude 
So  much  besmear  it.     Pardon  me,  good  lady ; 
For,  by  these  blessed  candles  of  the  night, 
Had  you  been  there,  I  think  you  would  have  begg'd 
The  ring  of  me  to  give  the  worthy  doctor.  220 

Portia.    Let   not   that  doctor    e'er   come    near  my 

house. 

Since  he  hath  got  the  jewel  that  I  lov'd, 
And  that  which  you  did  swear  to  keep  for  me, 
I  will  become  as  liberal  as  you ; 
I  '11  not  deny  him  any  thing  I  have. 

Antonio.    I  am  the  unhappy  subject  of  these  quarrels. 

Portia.    Sir,  grieve  not  you ;   you  are  welcome  not- 
withstanding. 

Bassanio.    Portia,  forgive  me  this  enforced  wrong ; 
And,  in  the  hearing  of  these  many  friends, 


Scene  I]       The  Merchant  of  Venice  139 

^  •  .-.'••-..:'"••'"• 

I  swear  to  thee,  even  by  thine  own  fair  eyes,  230 

Wherein  I  see  myself,  — 

Portia.  Mark  you  but  that ! 

In  both  my  eyes  he  doubly  sees  himself ; 
In  each  eye,  one  !  —  Swear  by  your  double  self, 
And  there  's  an  oath  of  credit. 

Bassanio.  Nay,  but  hear  me : 

Pardon  this  fault,  and  by  my  soul  I  swear 
I  never  more  will  break  an  oath  with  thee. 

Antonio.    I  once  did  lend  my  body  for  his  wealth, 
Which,  but  for  him  that  had  your  husband's  ring, 
Had  quite  miscarried  ;  I  dare  be  bound  again, 
My  soul  upon  the  forfeit,  that  your  lord  ,  240 

Will  never  more  break  faith  advisedly. 

Portia.    Then  you  shall  be  his  surety.     Give  him  this, 
And  bid  him  keep  it  better  than  the  other. 

Antonio.  Here,  lord  Bassanio ;  swear  to  keep  this  ring. 

Bassanio.  By  heaven,  it  is  the  same  I  gave  the  doctor! 

Portia.   You  are  all  amaz'd. 
Here  is  a  letter,  read  it  at  your  leisure ;  l 
It  comes  from  Padua,  from  Bellario. 
There  you  shall  find  that  Portia  was  the  doctor, 
Nerissa  there  her  clerk.     Lorenzo  here  250 

Shall  witness  I  set  forth  as  soon  as  you, 
And  even  but  now  re  turn 'd  ;  I  have  not  yet 
Enter'd  my  house.  —  Antonio,  you  are  welcome ; 
And  I  have  better  news  in  store  for  you 
Than  yon  expect.     Unseal  this  letter  soon  ; 
There  you  shall  find,  three  of  your  argosies 


140  The  Merchant  of  Venice          [Act  V 

Are  richly  come  to  harbour  suddenly. 

You  shall  not  know  by  what  strange  accident 

I  chanced  on  this  letter. 

Antonio.    Sweet  lady,  you  have  given   me  life  and 
living ;  26* 

For  here  I  read  for  certain  that  my  ships 
Are  safely  come  to  road. 

Portia.  How  now,  Lorenzo  ? 

My  clerk  hath  some  good  comforts  too  for  you. 

Nerissa.   Ay,  and  I  '11  give  them  him  without  a  fee.  — 
There  do  I  give  to  you  and  Jessica, 
From  the  rich  Jew,  a  special  deed  of  gift, 
After  his  death,  of  all  he  dies  possess'd  of. 

Lorenzo.    Fair  ladies,  you  drop  manna  in  the  way 
Of  starved  people. 

Portia.  It  is  almost  morning, 

And  yet  I  am  sure  you  are  not  satisfied  270 

Of  these  events  at  full.     Let  us  go  in  ; 
And  charge  us  there  upon  inter'gatories, 
And  we  will  answer  all  things  faithfully,  \Exeunt* 


NOTES 


141 


THE  CASKETS 


NOTES 


INTRODUCTION 

THE  METRE  OF  THE  PLAY.  —  It  should  be  understood  at  the 
outset  that  metre,  or  the  mechanism  of  verse,  is  something  alto- 
gether distinct  from  the  music  of  verse.  The  one  is  matter  of  rule, 
the  other  of  taste  and  feeling.  Music  is  not  an  absolute  necessity 
of  verse;  the  metrical  form  is  a  necessity,  being  that  which  consti- 
tutes the  verse. 

The  plays  of  Shakespeare  (with  the  exception  of  rhymed  pas- 
sages, and  of  occasional  songs  and  interludes)  are  all  in  unrhymed 
or  blank  verse;  and  the  normal  form  of  this  blank  verse  is  illus- 
trated by  the  first  line  of  the  present  play :  "  In  sooth,  I  know  not 
why  I  am  so  sad." 


144  Notes 

This  line,  it  will  be  seen,  consists  of  ten  syllables,  with  the  even 
syllables  (2d,  4th,  6th,  8th,  and  loth)  accented,  the  odd  syllables 
(ist,  3d,  etc.)  being  unaccented.  Theoretically,  it  is  made  up  of 
five  feet  of  two  syllables  each,  with  the  accent  on  the  second  sylla- 
ble. Such  a  foot  is  called  an  iambus  (plural,  iambuses,  or  the 
Latin  iambi},  and  the  form  of  verse  is  called  iambic. 

This  fundamental  law  of  Shakespeare's  verse  is  subject  to  certain 
modifications,  the  most  important  of  which  are  as  follows :  — 

1.  After  the  tenth  syllable  an  unaccented  syllable  (or  even  two 
such  syllables)  may  be  added,  forming  what  is  sometimes  called  a 
female  line;   as  in  the  third  line  of  the  first  scene:   "But  how  I 
caught  it,  found  it,  or  came  by  it."     The  rhythm  is  complete  with 
by,  the  it  being  an  extra  eleventh  syllable.     In  line  69,  we  have  two 
extra  syllables,  the  rhythm  being  complete  with  the  second  syllable 
of  Antonio. 

2.  The  accent  in  any  part  of  the  verse  may  be  shifted  from  an 
even  to  an  odd  syllable;  as  in  lines  18,  19 :  — 

"  Plucking  the  grass,  to  know  where  sits  the  wind, 
Peering  in  maps  for  ports  and  piers  and  roads." 

In  both  lines  the  accent  is  shifted  from  the  second  to  the  first  syl- 
lable. This  change  occurs  very  rarely  in  the  tenth  syllable,  and 
seldom  in  the  fourth;  and  it  is  not  allowable  in  two  successive 
accented  syllables. 

3.  An  extra  unaccented  syllable  may  occur  in  any  part  of  the 
line;  as  in  lines  29,  47,  and  48.     In  29  the  second  syllable  of  burial 
is  superfluous;  in  47  the  word  us  ;  and  in  48  the  second  syllable  of 
merry.      Line  48  has  also  the  unaccented  final  syllable  in  easy, 
making  it  a  female  line. 

4.  Any  unaccented  syllable,  occurring  in  an  even  place  immedi- 
ately before  or  after  an  even  syllable  which  is  properly  accented,  is 
reckoned  as  accented  for  the  purposes. of  the  verse;  as,  for  instance, 
in  lines  12  and  13.     In  12  the  first  syllable  of  overpeer  and  the  last 
of  traffickers  are  metrically  equivalent  to  accented  syllables ;  and  so 


Notes  145 

with  the  last  syllable  of  reverence  in  13.  Other  examples  are  the 
last  syllable  of  Antonio  in  lines  39,  73,  122,  and  130,  and  that  of 
Portia  in  166.  In  166  Portia  must  be  made  distinctly  a  trisyllable 
(as  in  ii.  7.  43  and  47),  but  in  165  (as  often)  it  is  virtually  a  dis- 
syllable. 

5.  In  many  instances  in  Shakespeare  words  must  be  lengthened 
in  order  to  fill  out  the  rhythm :  — 

(a)  In  a  large  class  of  words  in  which  e  or  i  is  followed  by 
another  vowel,  the  e  or  i  is  made  a  separate  syllable;   as  ocean, 
opinion,  soldier,  patience,  partial,  marriage,  etc.     For    instance, 
line  8  of  the  first  scene  of  the  present  play  appears  to  have  only 
nine  syllables,  but  ocean  (see  note  on  the  word)  is  a  trisyllable. 
In  102  opinion  is  a  quadrisyllable  (but  a  trisyllable  in  91) ;  occasions 
has  five  syllables  in  139;  and  many  similar  instances  are  mentioned 
in  the  Notes.     This  lengthening  occurs  most  frequently  at  the  end 
of  the  line. 

(b)  Many  monosyllables  ending  in  r,  re,  rs,  res,  preceded  by  a 
long  vowel  or  diphthong,  are  often  made  dissyllables;  as  fare,  fear, 
dear,  fire,  hair,  hour,  your,  etc.     In  iii.  2.  297  :  "  Shall  lose  a  hair 
through  Bassanio's  fault,"  hair  is  a  dissyllable.     If  the  word  is 
repeated  in  averse  it  is  often  both  monosyllable  and  dissyllable; 
as  in  iii.  2.  20 :  "  And  so,  though  yours,  not  yours.     Prove  it  so," 
where  either  yours  (preferably  the  first)  is  a  dissyllable,  the  other 
being  a  monosyllable.     In/.  C.  iii.  i.  172:  "As  fire  drives  out  fire, 
so  pity,  pity,"  the  first  fire  is  a  dissyllable. 

(<:)  Words  containing  /  or  r,  preceded  by  another  consonant,  are 
often  pronounced  as  if  a  vowel  ca.vie  between  the  consonants;  as 
in  T.  of S.  if.  i.  158:  "While  she  did  call  me  rascal  fiddler"  [fid- 
d(e)ler];  AWs  Well,  iii.  5.  43:  "  If  you  will  tarry,  holy  pilgrim" 
[pilg(e)rim];  C.  of  E.  v.  i.  360:  "These  are  the  parents  of  these 
children  "  [childeren,  the  original  form  of  the  word] ;  W.  T.  iv. 
4.  76:  "Grace  and  remembrance  [rememb(e) ranee]  be  to  you 
both ! "  etc. 

(d)  Monosyllabic  exclamations  (ay,  O,  yea,  nay,  hail,  etc.)  and 
MER.  OF  YEN.  —  IO 


146  Notes 

monosyllables  otherwise  emphasized  are  similarly  lengthened ;  also 
certain  longer  words;  as  commandement  in  the  present  play  (iv.  i. 
444) ;  safety  (trisyllable)  in  Ham.  i.  3.  21 ;  business  (trisyllable,  as 
originally  pronounced)  in  J.  C.  iv.  I.  22:  "To  groan  and  sweat 
under  the  business "  (so  in  several  other  passages) ;  and  other 
words  mentioned  in  the  notes  to  the  plays  in  which  they  occur. 

6.  Words  are  also  contracted  for  metrical  reasons,  like  plurals 
and  possessives  ending  in  a  sibilant,  as  balance  (see  note  on  iv.  I. 
248),  horse  (for  horses  and  horse's},  princess,  sense,  marriage  (plural 
and  possessive),  image,  etc.     So  spirit  (see  note  on  ii.  2.  189), 
inter* gatories  (see  on  v.  I.  272),  unpleasant' }st  (see  on  iii.  2.  246), 
and  other  words  mentioned  in  the  notes  on  this  and  other  plays. 

7.  The  accent  of  words  is  also  varied  in  many  instances  for  met- 
rical reasons.     Thus  we  find  both  revenue  and  revemie  in  the  first 
scene  of  the  M.  N.  D.  (lines  6  and  158),  obscure  (see  note  on  ii.  7. 
51)  and  obscure,  pursue  (see  on  iv.  I.  291)  and  pursue,  distinct  (SZQ 
on  ii.  9.  60)  and  distinct,  etc. 

These  instances  of  variable  accent  must  not  be  confounded  with 
those  in  which  words  were  uniformly  accented  differently  in  the 
time  of  Shakespeare;^  like  aspect  (see  on  i.  I.  54),  impdrtune,  per- 
sever  (never persevere],  perseverance,  rheumatic,  etc. 

8.  Alexandrines,  or  verses  of  twelve  syllables,  with  ,six  accents, 
occur  here  and  there;   as  in  the  inscriptions  on  the  caskets  (and  a 
few'  other  instances)  in  this  play.     They  must  not  be  confounded 
with  female  lines  with  two  extra  syllables  (see  on  I  above)  or  with 
other  lines  in  which  two  extra  unaccented  syllables  may  occur. 

9.  Incomplete  verses,   of  on^   or  more  syllables,   are  scattered 
through  the  plays.     See  note  on  i.  i .  5  of  this  play. 

10.  Doggerel  measure  (i.  iViii  and  the  last  line  of  i.  2  in  this 
play)  is  used  in  the  very  earliest  comedies  (Z.  L.  L.  and  C.  of  E. 
in  particular)  in  the  mouths  of  comic  characters,  but  nowhere  eh 
in  those  plays,  and  never  anywhere  after  the  date  of  the  Merchant. 

11.  Rhyme  occurs  frequently  in  the  early  plays,  but  diminishes 
with  comparative  regularity  from  that  period  until  the  latest.    Thus, 


Notes  147 

in  L.  Z.  L.  there  are  about  1 100  rhyming  verses  (about  one-third 
of  the  whole  number),  in  the  M.  N.  D.  about  900,  in  Rich.  II. 
and  R.  and  J.  about  500  each,  while  in  Cor.  and  A.  and  C.  there  are 
only  about  40  each,  in  the  Temp,  only  two,  and  in  the  W.  T.  none 
at  all,  except  in  the  chorus  introducing  act  iv.  Songs,  interludes, 
and  other  matter  not  in  ten-syllable  measure  are  not  included  in 
this  enumeration.  In  the  present  play,  out  of  some  2000  verses, 
less  than  a  hundred  are  in  rhyme. 

Alternate  rhymes  are  found  only  in  the  plays  written  before  1599 
or  1600.  In  the  Merchant  there  are  only  four  lines  —  at  the  end 
of  iii.  2.  In  Much  Ado  and  A.  Y.  L.  we  also  find  a  few  lines,  but 
none  at  all  in  subsequent  plays. 

Rhymed  couplets,  or  "  rhyme-tags,"  are  often  found  at  the  end  of 
Scenes;  as  in  the  first  scene,  and  twelve  other  scenes,  of  the  present 
play.  In  Ham.,  14  out  of  20  scenes,  and  in  Macb.,  21  out  of  28, 
have  such  "tags";  but  in  the  latest  plays  they  are  not  so  frequent. 
The  Temp.,  for  instance,  has  but  one,  and  the  W.  T.  none. 

SHAKESPEARE'S  USE  OF  VERSE  AND  PROSE  IN  THE  PLAYS. — 
This  is  a  subject  to  which  the  critics  have  given  very  little  atten- 
tion, but  it  is  an  interesting  study.  In  the  Merchant  we  find 
scenes  entirely  in  verse  or  in  prose,  and  others  in  which  the  two  are 
mixed.  In  general,  we  may  say  that  verse  is  used  for  what  is  dis- 
tinctly poetical,  and  prose  for  what  is  not  poetical.  The  distinction, 
however,  is  not  so  clearly  marked  in  the  earlier  as  in  the  later 
plays.  The  second  scene  of  the  Merchant,  for  instance,  is  in  prose, 
because  Portia  and  Nerissa  are  talking  about  the  suitors  in  a  familiar 
and  playful  way;  but  in  the  T.  G.  of  V.,  where  Julia  and  Lucetta 
are  discussing  the  suitors  of  the  former  in  much  the  same  fashion, 
the  scene  is  all  in  verse.  Dowden,  commenting  on  Rich.  //., 
remarks :  "  Had  Shakespeare  written  the  play  a  few  years  later,  we 
may  be  certain  that  the  gardener  and  his  servants  (iii.  4)  would 
not  have  uttered  stately  speeches  in  verse,  but  would  have  spoken 
homely  prose,  and  that  humour  would  have  mingled  with  the 
pathos  of  the  scene.  The  same  remark  may  be  made  with  refer- 


148  Notes 


ence  to  the  subsequent  scene  (v.  5)  in  which  his  groom  visits  the 
dethroned  king  in  the  Tower."  Comic  characters  and  those  in  low 
life  generally  speak  in  prose  in  the  later  plays,  as  Dowden  inti- 
mates, but  in  the  very  earliest  ones  doggerel  verse  is  much  used 
instead.  See  on  10  above. 

The  change  from  prose  to  verse  is  well  illustrated  in  the  third 
scene  of  the  Merchant.  It  begins  with  plain  prosaic  talk  about  a 
business  matter;  but  when  Antonio  enters,  it  rises  at  once  to  the 
higher  level  of  poetry.  The  sight  of  Antonio  reminds  Shylock  of 
his  hatred  of  the  Merchant,  and  the  passion  expresses  itself  in  verse, 
the  vernacular  tongue  of  poetry.  We  have  a  similar  change  in 
the  first  scene  of  J.  C,  where,  after  the  quibbling  "  chaff "  of  the 
mechanics  about  their  trades,  the  mention  of  Pompey  reminds  the 
Tribune  of,  their  plebeian  fickleness,  and  his  scorn  and  indignation 
flame  out  in  most  eloquent  verse. 

The  reasons  for  the  choice  of  prose  or  verse  are  not  always  so 
clear  as  in  these  instances.  We  are  seldom  puzzled  to  explain  the 
prose,  but  not  unfrequently  we  meet  with  verse  where  we  might 
expect  prose.  As  Professor  Corson  remarks  (Introduction  to  Shake- 
spear e,  1889),  "  Shakespeare  adopted  verse  as  the  general  tenor  of 
his  language,  and  therefore  expressed  much  in  verse  that  is  within 
the  capabilities  of  prose;  in  other  words,  his  verse  constantly 
encroaches  upon  the  domain  of  prose,  but  his  prose  can  never  be 
said  to  encroach  upon  the  domain  of  verse."  If  in  rare  instances 
we  think  we  find  exceptions  to  this  latter  statement,  and  prose 
actually  seems  to  usurp  the  place  of  verse,  I  believe  that  careful 
study  of  the  passage  will  prove  the  supposed  exception  to  be  appar- 
ent rather  than  real. 

SOME  BOOKS  FOR  TEACHERS  AND  STUDENTS.  —  A  few  out  of 
the  many  books  that  might  be  commended  to  the  teacher  and  the 
critical  student  are  the  following:  Halliwell-Phillipps's  Outlines 
of  the  Life  of  Shakespeare  (yth  ed.  1887);  Sidney  Lee's  Life  of 
Shakespeare  (1898;  for  ordinary  students  the  abridged  ed.  of  1899 
is  preferable);  Schmidt's  Shakespeare  Lexicon  (3d  ed.  1902); 


Notes  149 

Littledale's  ed.  of  Dyce's  Glossary  (1902);  Bartlett's  Concordance 
to  Shakespeare  (1895);  Abbott's  Shakespearian  Grammar  (1873); 
Furness's  "New  Variorum  "  ed.  of  The  Merchant  of  Venice  (1888, 
encyclopaedic  and  exhaustive) ;  Dowden's  Shakspere :  His  Mind  and 
Art  (American  ed.  1881);  Hudson's  Life,  Art,  and  Characters  of 
Shakespeare  (revised  ed.  1882);  Mrs.  Jameson's  Characteristics  of 
Women  (several  eds.,  some  with  the  title,  Shakespeare  Heroines} ; 
Ten  Brink's  Five  lectures  on  Shakespeare  (1895);  Boas's  Shake- 
speare and  His  Predecessors  (1895);  Dyer's  Folk-lore  of  Shake- 
speare (American  ed.  1884);  Gervinus's  Shakespeare  Commentaries 
(Bunnett's  translation,  1875);  Wordsworth's  Shakespeare's  Knowl- 
edge of  the  Bible  (3d  ed.  1880);  Elson's  Shakespeare  in  Music 
(1901). 

Some  of  the  above  books  will  be  useful  to  all  readers  who  are 
interested  in  special  subjects  or  in  general  criticism  of  Shakespeare. 
Among  those  which  are  better  suited  to  the  needs  of  ordinary 
readers  and  students,  the  following  may  be  mentioned :  Phin's 
Cyclopedia  and  Glossary  of  Shakespeare  (1902,  more  compact  and 
cheaper  than  Dyce);  Dowden's  Shakspere  Primer  (1877,  small 
but  invaluable);  Rolfe's  Shakespeare  the  Boy  (1896,  treating  of 
the  home  and  school  life,  the  games  and  sports,  the  manners, 
customs,  and  folk-lore  of  the  poet's  time) ;  Guerber's  Myths  of 
Greece  and  Rome  (for  young  students  who  may  need  information 
on  mythological  allusions  not  explained  in  the  notes). 

Black's  Judith  Shakespeare  (1884,  a  novel,  but  a  careful  study 
of  the  scene  and  the  time)  is  a  book  that  I  always  commend  to 
young  people,  and  their  elders  will  also  enjoy  it.  The  Lambs' 
Tales  from  Shakespeare  is  a  classic  for  beginners  in  the  study  of 
the  dramatist ;  and  in  Rolfe's  ed.  the  plan  of  the  authors  is  carried 
out  in  the  Notes  by  copious  illustrative  quotations  from  the  plays. 
Mrs.  Cowden-Clarke's  Girlhood  of  Shakespeare's  Heroines  (several 
eds.)  will  particularly  interest  girls  ;  and  both  girls  and  boys  will 
find  Bennett's  Master  Skylark  (1897)  and  Imogen  Clark's  Will 
Shakespeare's  Little  Lad (1897)  equally  entertaining  and  instructive. 


1 50  Notes  [Act  I 

H.  Snowden  Ward's  Shakespeare's  Town  and  Times  (1896)  and 
John  Leyland's  Shakespeare  Country  (1900)  are  copiously  illus- 
trated books  (yet  inexpensive)  which  may  be  particularly  com- 
mended for  school  libraries. 

It  is  proper  to  add  that  certain  books  specially  useful  in  the 
study  of  other  plays  than  the  Merchant  are  not  included  in  the  above 
lists. 

ABBREVIATIONS  IN  THE  NOTES. — -The  abbreviations  of  the 
names  of  Shakespeare's  plays  will  be  readily  understood ;  as 
T.  N.  for  Twelfth  Night,  Cor.  for  Coriolanus,  3  Hen.  VI.  for 
The  7^hird  Part  of  King  Henry  the  Sixth,  etc.  P.  P.  refers  to 
The  Passionate  Pilgrim;  V.  and  A.  to  Venus  and  Adonis ;  L.  C. 
to  Lover's  Complaint ;  and  Sonn.  to  the  Sonnets. 

Other  abbreviations  that  hardly  need  explanation  are  Cf.  (confer, 
compare),  Fol.  (following),  Id.  (idem,  the  same),  and  Prol.  (pro- 
logue). The  numbers  of  the  lines  in  the  references  (except  for  the 
present  play)  are  those  of  the  "  Globe  "  edition  (the  cheapest  and 
best  edition  of  Shakespeare  in  one  compact  volume),  which  is  now 
generally  accepted  as  the  standard  for  line  numbers  in  works  of  ref- 
erence (Schmidt's  Lexicon,  Abbott's  Grammar,  Dowden's  Primer^ 
the  publications  of  the  New  Shakspere  Society,  etc.). 


ACT  I 

SCENE  I.  —  In  the  first  folio  the  play  is  divided  into  acts,  but 
not  into  scenes,  and  there  is  no  list  of  dramatis  persona*  The 
quartos  have  no  such  list,  and  no  division  at  all. 

This  scene,  like  many  in  this  play  (i.  3,  ii.  I,  3,  4,  5,  8,  etc.)  and 
others,  begins  abruptly,  the  dialogue  being  already  in  progress. 
Here  Antonio's  friends  have  evidently  been  trying  to  find  out  why 
he  is  so  melancholy.  He  says  that  he  cannot  explain  it  himself; 


Scene  I]  Notes  151 

and  the  critics  are  puzzled  by  it.  For  myself,  I  have  no  doubt  that 
it  is  due  to  an  indefinable  presentiment  of  coming  misfortune. 
Shakespeare,  whether  he  believed  in  such  premonitions  or  not, 
understood  their  dramatic  value  and  often  introduces  them  most 
effectively.  It  has  been  objected,  in  the  present  instance,  that 
"  this  play  is  not  a  tragedy,  but  a  comedy,  wherein  a  tragic  keynote 
would  be  falsely  struck.'^  But  it  comes  perilously  near  proving  a 
tragedy.  Antonio  suffers  all  the  pangs  of  death  except  the  last  and 
least,  and  the  shadow  of  that  impending  sorrow  may  already  rest 
upon  him.  No  other  explanation  of  the  passage  that  has  been 
suggested  seems  to  me  so  simple  and  satisfactory. 

i.  In  sooth.  In  truth.  The  word  sooth,  which  survives  in  sooth- 
sayer (teller  of  hidden  truth),  seldom  occurs  in  Shakespeare  except 
in  asseverations,  like  in  sooth,  in  good  sooth,  good  sooth  (as  in  ii.  6.  42 
below),  etc. 

5.  I  am  to  learn.  I  have  yet  to  find  out.  These  imperfect  lines 
are  not  uncommon  in  the  plays. 

8.  On  the  ocean.      Ocean  here  is  a  trisyllable  ;   as  in  2  Hen.  IV. 
iii.  I.   50:    "The  beachy  girdle  of  the  ocean."      Final  syllables 
containing  e  or  i  followed  by  another  vowel  are  often  thus  length- 
ened by   Elizabethan  and  later  poets.      Cf.  opinion,  in  line   102 
below;   complexion  in  ii.  I.  I;    intermission  in  iii.  2.  199;   descrip- 
tion in  iii.  2.  296;    imposition  in  iii.  4.  33;   and  other  instances  in 
the  present  play.     Such  words  are  often  emphatic,  and  the  length- 
ening adds  to  the  emphasis;   as  in  ocean,  complexion,  etc. 

9.  Argosies.     Merchant  vessels,  large  for  that  day,  though  not 
exceeding  200  tons.     The  word  (formerly  supposed  to  be  from  the 
classical  Argo)  is  from  Ragnsa,  a  port  in  Dalmatia,  as  the  old  forms, 
ragosie,  rhaguse,  ragusye,  etc.,  indicate. 

II.  Pageants.  The  word  in  S.  means  usually  a  theatrical  exhibi- 
tion, literal  or  figurative.  Originally  it  meant,  the  movable  theatres 
to  which  Dugdale  {Antiquities  of  Warwickshire,  1656),  in  his 
description  of  the  old  plays  at  Coventry,  refers  as  "  theatres  for  the 
principal  scenes,  very  large  and  high,  placed  upon  wheels,  and 


152  Notes  [Act  l 

drawn  to  all  the  eminent  parts  of  the  city  for  the  better  advantage 
of  spectators." 

12.  Overpeer.    Tower  above;  as  in  3  Hen.  VI.  v.  2.  14:  "  Whose 
top-branch  overpeer'd  Jove's  spreading  tree." 

13.  Curtsy.    The  same  word  as  courtesy ;  used  of  both  sexes  in 
this  sense. 

15.  Venture.  Still  used  in  this  commercial  sense.  Forth  = 
abroad. 

17.  Still.  Ever,  constantly,  as  in  136  below.  On  plucking  the 
grass,  etc.,  Ascham  (Toxophilus)  frequently  refers  to  holding  up 
"  a  fether  or  a  lytle  lyght  grasse,"  to  learn  "  how  the  wynd  stoode," 
as  boys  sometimes  do  nowadays. 

27.  My  wealthy  Andrew.     My  richly  freighted  ship.     Some  sup- 
pose the  name  to  be  taken  from  that  of  the  famous  Genoese  admiral, 
Andrea  Doria,  who  died  1560. 

28.  Vailing.      Lowering.     Cf.  "  Vail  your  regard  "  ( =  let  fall 
your  look),  M.  for  M.  v.  I.  20,  etc.     The  word  is  contracted  from 
avail  or  avale,  the  French  avaler  (from  Latin  ad  valient).    Editors 
and  critics  have  sometimes  confounded  it  with  veil. 

29.  Her  burial.    That  is,  her  burial  place. 

35.  But  even  now  worth  this.  The  force  of  this  (=  all  this,  so 
much)  was  doubtless  meant  to  be  expressed  by  a  gesture -^  perhaps 
a  sweep  of  the  right  arm.  Cf.  /.  C.  iv.  3.  26 :  "  For  so  much  trash 
as  may  be  grasped  thus  " ;  where  thus  is  explained  by  closing  the 
hand  as  if  to  hold  the  money. 

40.   To  think  upon.     From  thinking  upon. 

42.  Bottom.  This  word,  like  venture,  is  still  used  in  commerce 
in  the  same  sense  as  here.  Cf.  K.  John,  ii.  I.  73  :  "the  English 
bottoms." 

50.  Two-headed  Janus.  In  some  of  the  ancient  images  of  Janus 
a  grave  face  was  associated  with  a  laughing  one. 

52.   Peep  through  their  eyes.   That  is,  eyes  half  shut  with  laughter. 

54.  Other  of  such  vinegar  aspect.  Other  is  often  plural  in  S.  and 
pther  writers  of  the  time.  Aspect  is  always  accented  on  the  last 


Scene  I] 


Notes 


syllable  by  S.  and  his  contemporaries.  Cf.  Spenser,  F.  Q.  i.  12.  23 : 
"Most  ugly  shapes,  and  horrible  aspects;  "  Milton,  P.  L.  iii.  266: 
"  His  words  here  ended,  but  his  meek  aspect,"  etc. 

56.   Nestor.    The  oldest  of  the  Greek  heroes  in  the  Iliad,  famed 
for  his  wisdom  and 
gravity.  See  T.  and 
C.t  in  which  he  is  a 
character. 

61.  Prevented. 
In  its  primitive  sense 
of  anticipated.  Cf. 
Ham.  ii.  2.  305,  etc.; 
also  Psalms,  cxix. 
147,  and  I  Thessa- 

62-64.  Your 

worth,  etc.  This 
speech  is  character- 
istic of  Antonio.  He 
takes  Salarino's  con- 
ventional compli- 
ment to  his  friends 
too  seriously. 

67.  Exceeding 
strange.  S.  often  TWO-HEADED  JANUS 

uses  exceeding  as  an 

adverb.  He  uses  exceedingly  only  five  times  —  in  four  of  which  it 
modifies  the  adverb  well,  while  in  the  fifth  it  modifies  an  adjective 
understood.  Exceeding  strange  =  our  expression,  "  very  much  of  a 
stranger." 

74.   Respect  upon  the  world.     Regard  for  the  world. 

78.  A  stage.     Cf.  the  famous  passage,  "  All  the  world's  a  stage," 
A.  Y.  L.  ii.  7.  139  fol. 

79.  Let  me  play  the  fool.     Let  the  part  assigned  to  me  be  that  of 


1 54'  Notes  [Act  l 

the  fool,  who  was  always  one  of  the  characters  in  the  old  come- 
dies. Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  2.  154 :  "thus  we  play  the  fools  with  the 
time." 

80.  Old  wrinkles.     The  wrinkles  of  age. 

81.  Liver.     Cf.  A.  and  C.  ii.  I.  23 :  "I  had  rather  heat  my  live* 
with  drinking." 

82.  Than  my  heart  cool,  etc.     There  may  be  an  allusion  here  to 
the  old  belief  that  every  sigh  or  groan  robbed  the  heart  of  a  drop 
of  blood.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  97  :  "  Sighs  of  love  that  costs  the 
fresh  blood  dear." 

84.  Alabaster.    All  the  early  eds.  have  "  alablaster,"  the  more 
common  spelling  in  that  day. 

85.  Creep  into  the  jaundice.     In  the  only  other  passage  in  which 
S.  mentions  the  jaundice,  the  cause  of  the  disease  is,  as  here,  a 
mental  one.     See  T.  and  C.  i.  3.  2. 

89.  Do  cream  and  mantle.     Cf.  Lear,  iii.  4.  139:  "the  green 
mantle  of  the  standing  pool." 

90.  And  do  a  wilful  stillness  entertain.     And  who  do  maintain 
an  obstinate  silence.     This  kind  of  ellipsis  is  not  uncommon  when 
the  sense  is  clear. 

91.  Opinion  of  wisdom.     Reputation  for  wisdom.     Opinion  is 
here  a  trisyllable,  but  a  quadrisyllable  in  102  below. 

92.  Conceit.     Intellect;   as  often. 

93.  As  who  should  say.     Like  one  who  should  say.    The  early 
folios  read,  "  I  am  sir  an  Oracle,"  which  some  editors  prefer;   but 
cf.  "  Sir  Prudence  "  (  Temp.  ii.  I.  286),  "  Sir  Smile  "  (  W.  T.  i.  2. , 
196),  etc. 

96.  That  therefore  only  are  reputed  wise,  etc.  That  are  reputed 
wise  only  on  this  account,  that  they  say  nothing.  Pope  calls  silence 
"  Thou  varnisher  of  fools,  and  cheat  of  all  the  wise." 

98.  Would  almost,  etc.  That  is,  they  would;  an  ellipsis  of  the 
nomina'ive,  as  in  90  above.  The  meaning  is  that  the  hearers  could 
hardly  help  calling  them  fools,  and  thus  exposing  themselves  to 
the  judgment  threatened  in  Scripture  {Matthewt  v.  22). 


Scene  I]  Notes  155 

101.  This  melancholy  bait.     This  bait  of  melancholy;  this  melan- 
choly as  a  bait. 

102.  Fool  gudgeon.     Old  Izaak  Walton  says  of  the  gudgeon  : 
"  It  is  an  excellent  fish  to  enter  (initiate)  a  young  angler,  being 
easy  to  be  taken."   On  the  adjective  use  oifool,  cf.  "  fool  multitude," 
ii.  9.  25  below. 

108.   Moe.     More;   used  only  with  a  plural  or  collective  noun. 

no.  For  this  gear.  For  this  purpose,  or  matter;  an  expression 
sometimes  used,  as  here,  without  very  definite  meaning. 

1 1 6.  You  shall  seek  all  day.  Shall  and  should  are  often  used 
in  all  three  persons,  by  the  Elizabethan  writers,  to  denote  mere 
futurity. 

124.  By  something  shoiving.     This  adverbial  use  of  something 
(=  somewhat),  which  occurs  twice  in  this  speech,  is  common  in  S. 

More  swelling  port.  Grander  state.  Cf.  "greatest  port,"  iii.  2. 
276  below. 

125.  Would  grant  continuance.     That  is,  continuance  of.     Such 
ellipsis  is  common  in  the  Elizabethan  writers.     Cf.  ii.  6.  9  and  iv.  I. 
380  below. 

1 26.  Make  moan  to  be  abridged.     Complain  that  I  am  curtailed. 
Cf.  "  made  moan  to  me,"  iii.  3.  23  below. 

129.  My  time.     My  time  of  life,  my  youth. 

130.  Gag*d.     Engaged,  bound. 

136.  Still.     See  on  17  above. 

137.  Within  the  eye  of  honour.     Within  the  range  of  what  can 
be  viewed  (or  regarded)  as  honourable. 

139.  Occasions.  Needs;  here  a  quadrisyllable.  See  on  8 
above. 

141.  Flight.     A  technical  term  to  denote  the  range  of  an  arrow. 
Cf.  Ascham's  Toxophihis :  "  You  must  have   divers  shafts  of  one 
flight,  feathered  with  divers  wings,  for  divers  winds."     His  =  itst 
which  was  then  just  coming  into  use.     See  on  iii.  2.  82  below. 

142.  More  advised.     More  careful.     Cf.  the  modern  use  of  un- 
advised. 


1 56 


Notes  [Act  i 


143.  To  find  the  other  forth.     To  find  uhe  other  out.     Cf.  "  to 
find  his  fellow  forth,"  C.  of  E.  i.  2.  37. 

144.  Childhood  proof.     Experiment  of  my  childhood. 

146.  Like  a  'wilful  youth.  Elliptical  for  "  like  what  will  happen 
with  a  wilful  (that  is,  wilful  in  his  prodigality)  youth." 

148.  That  self  way.  That  same  way.  Cf.  "this  self  place," 
3  Hen.  VI.  iii.  I.  ii;  "that  self  mould,"  Rich.  II.  i.  2.  23,  etc. 

154.    Circumstance.     Circumlocution;  as  in  Ham.  i.  5.  127,  etc. 

156.  In  making  question,  etc.  In  doubting  my  readiness  to  do 
all  that  I  can  for  you. 

1 60.  Prest.     Ready;  the  old  French  prest  (now  pref),  Italian 
and  Spanish  presto,  from  Latin  adv.  prasto,  through  the  late  Latin 
prastus. 

161.  Jtichty  left.     Left  rich.     Cf.  v.  i.  257:    "richly  come  to 
harbour." 

162.  And,  fairer  than  that  word.     Some  take  this  as  connected 
with  what  precedes  and  emphasizing  fair;  but  it  is  clearly  con- 
nected with  what  follows.     Bassanio  places  her  beauty  above  her 
wealth,  and  her  virtues  above  her  beauty.    He  had  been  acquainted 
with  Portia  in  her  father's  time  (i.  2. 112),  before  she  came  into  her 
fortune,  and  began  to  love  her  then;   and,  as  we  see  later,  he  did 
not  misinterpret  the  "  fair  speechless  messages  "  of  her  eyes.    Lady 
Martin  (Some  of  Shakespeare1  s  Female  Characters],  commenting  on 
the  opening  lines  of  the  next  scene,  remarks :  "  Often,  no  doubt 
has  she  wondered  why  he  has  not  presented  himself  among  her 
suitors.     Unconsciously,   perhaps,   the   languor   of  hope   deferred 
speaks  in  these  first  words  we  hear  from  her.    The  one  whom  she 
thought  might  possibly  have  been  among  the  first  comers  comes 
not  at  all." 

163.  Sometimes.     In  time  past,  formerly.     Sometimes  and  some- 
time are  used  interchangeably  by  S.  in  this  and  their  other  senses. 

165-   Nothing  undervalued.    Nowise  inferior.    Cf.  ii.  7.  53  below. 
1 66.   Brutus'  Portia.      See  J.  C.,  in  which  this  "woman  well 
reputed,  Cato's  daughter,"  is  a  prominent  character. 


Scene  II]  Notes  157 

170.  Like  a  golden  fleece,  etc.  The  Argonautic  expedition  is 
Alluded  to  again,  iii.  2.  236  below :  "  We  are  the  Jasons,  we  have 
won  the  fleece." 

175.  I  have  a  mind  presages.  That  is,  which  presages.  See  on 
90  above. 

Thrift.  Success.  Cf.  "  well- won  thrift  "  and  "  thrift  is  blessing," 
i.  3.  50,  86  below. 

177,  178.  All  my  fortunes  are  at  sea,  etc.  This  is  not  strictly 
consistent  with  42-44  above;  but  S.  is  often  careless  in  these 
minor  matters. 

Commodity.  Property.  In  iii.  3.  27  below  the  word  is  used  in 
the  obsolete  sense  of  advantage  or  gain.  Cf.  IV.  T.  iii.  2.  94:  "To 
me  can  life  be  no  commodity." 

183.  Presently.  Immediately.  Cf.  Temp.  iv.  I.  42:  "Ariel. 
Presently?  Prosper o.  Ay,  with  a  twink;"  and  again,  v.  I.  101 : 
"  Prospcro.  And  presently,  I  prithee.  Ariel.  I  drink  the  air  before 
me,  and  return  Or  ere  your  pulse  beat  twice."  See  also  I  Samuel, 
ii.  1 6,  and  Matthew,  xxvi.  53. 

185.  To  have  it  of  my  trust,  etc.  Of  obtaining  it  either  on  my 
credit  as  a  merchant,  or  as  a  personal  favour. 

Note  the  rhyme  in  the  last  couplet,  as  often  at  the  close  of  a  scene. 

SCENE  II.  —  2.  Aweary.  A  poetical  form  of  weary,  but  occa- 
sionally used  in  prose,  as  here. 

7.  //  is  no  mean  happiness.     So  in  the  quartos.    The  folios  have 
"no  small  happiness."    The  repetition  is  in  Shakespeare's  manner. 

8.  Superfluity  comes  sooner  by  white  hairs.     The  rich  are  more 
likely  to  "  live  fast "  and  become  prematurely  old,  and  therefore  to 
die  the  sooner. 

26.  Nor  refuse  none.  This  old  double  negative  is  common  in  S., 
and  occasionally  we  find  a  triple  one;  as  in  T.  N.  iii.  I.  171 :  "nor 
never  none,"  etc. 

32.  But  one  who  you  shall  rightly  love.  Who  is  the  object,  not 
the  subject,  of  love,  as  appears  from  the  question  which  follows : 


i58 


Notes 


[Act 


What  affection  have  you  for  any  of  the  suitors  that  are  alreaa 
come  ?  Who  for  whom  is  not  unusual  in  the  writers  of  the  time. 
Cf.  ii.  6.  30  below. 

36.  I  pray  thee,  over-name  them,  etc.  The  dialogue  that  follows 
is  an  elaboration  of  the  scene  between  Julia  and  Lucetta  in  T.  G. 
of  V.  i.  2. 

38.  Level  at.  Aim  at,  guess.  Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  iii.  2.  286 :  "the 
foeman  may  with  as  great  aim  level  at  the  edge  of  a  penknife." 

41.  Makes  it  a  great  appropriation,  etc.  That  is,  takes  gre 
credit  to  himself  for  it.  S.  nowhere  else  uses  either  appropriatio 
or  appropriate. 

44.  For  county  —  count,  see  R.  and  /„  (where  it  occurs  eleven 
times),  A.  W.  iii.  7.  22,  etc. 

46.  An  you  will  not.     The  folio  has  "And  you."     And  or  an 
for  if  is  very  common  in  old  writers,  as  well  as  and  if  or  an  if. 
Choose ;  that  is,  choose  where  you  will;   I  don't  care. 

47.  The  weeping  philosopher.     Heracleitus,  of  Ephesus,  who,  fron 
his  melancholy  disposition,  is  represented  in  various  old  traditions 
as  the  contrast  to  Democritus  ("  the  laughing  philosopher  "),  weep 
ing  over  the  frailties  and  follies  at  which  the  latter  laughed. 

49.  /  had  rather  to  be  married.  Had  rather  and  had  better  ar< 
good  English,  though  many  writers  of  grammars  tell  us  that 
should  say  would  rather,  etc.,  instead.  Rather  is  the  comparative 
of  rath  (see  Milton,  Lycidas :  "the  rath  primrose"),  and  is  often 
found  in  the  old  writers  in  the  sense  of  earlier,  sooner.  Thu 
Spenser,  Shep.  Kal.  Feb.,  speaks  of  "the  rather  lambes."  For  to 
after  had  rather,  cf.  Oth.  i.  3.  191 :  "I  had  rather  to  adopt 
child,"  etc. 

53.  How  say  you  by,  etc.  By  here,  as  not  unfrequently  =  abou 
or  concerning.  Cf.  ii.  9.  24 :  "  may  be  meant  By  the  fool  multi- 
tude." So  Latimer  (Serm.)  :  "  How  think  you  by  the  ceremo 
nies,"  etc. 

71.  Proper.  Comely,  good-looking  ;  as  often.  Cf.  Hebrnvs,  xi. 
23 :  "a  proper  child,"  etc. 


Scene  II]  Notes  1 59 

73.    Suited.     Dressed.     Cf.  "richly  suited,"  A.  W.\.  I.  170,  etc. 

Doublet.  "  The  doublet  (so  called  from  being  originally  lined  or 
wadded  for  defence)  was  a  close-fitting  coat,  with  skirts  reaching  a 
little  below  the  girdle."  The  "  round  hose  "  were  coverings  for  the 
legs,  not  the  feet  —  "  trowsers  or  breeches,  reaching  to  the  knee." 
The  phrase  "  doublet  and  hose,"  as  equivalent  to  "  coat  and 
breeches,"  occurs  often  in  S.  Bonnet,  originally  the  name  of  a  stuff, 
came  to  be  applied  to  the  man's  cap  made  of  it,  as  it  still  is  in 
Scottish. 

76.  The  Scottish  lord.  The  Scottish  of  the  quartos,  printed  before 
the  accession  of  James  I.,  was  changed  to  other  in  the  folio  of  1623, 
to  avoid  giving  offence  to  that  monarch. 

82.  Sealed  under  for  another.  Became  surety  for  another  box 
on  the  ear.  The  whole  passage  is  ironical.  The  Scotchman  is  toe 
cowardly  to  return  the  blow,  and  the  Frenchman  offers  to  do  it  for 
him. 

92.  You  should  refuse.  Should  is  often  thus  used  by  S.  where  we 
should  use  would.  Cf.  iii.  2.  267  below. 

104.  Some  other  sort.  Some  other  way.  Imposition  =  condition 
imposed.  In  iii.  4.  33  the  word  is  used  again  in  this  literal  sense  of 
something  "  laid  upon  "  one  as  a  burden  or  duty. 

106.  Sibylla.  Here  used  as  a  proper  name,  like  "  Sibyl "  in  T.  of 
S.  i.  2.  70.  So  Bacon,  in  Colours  of  Good  and  Evil,  10,  speaks  of 
"  Sybilla,  when  she  brought  her  three  books."  The  reference  here 
is  'to  the  Cumaean  Sibyl,  who,  according  to  Ovid,  obtained  from 
Apollo  a  promise  that  her  years  should  be  as  many  as  the  grains  of 
sand  she  was  holding  in  her  hand. 

108.  This  parcel  of  wooers.  Cf.  "  This  youthful  parcel  of  noble 
bachelors,"  A.  W.  ii.  3.  58. 

123.  The  four  strangers.  There  were  six  of  them.  Perhaps  two 
were  added  after  the  first  draft  of  the  play ;  or,  quite  as  likely,  it  is 
another  illustration  of  S.'s  carelessness.  See  on  i.  I.  177,  178. 

127.  With  so  good  heart  as,  etc.  We  now  seldom  use  so  .  .  .  as, 
preferring  as  .  .  .  as9  except  where  so  requires  special  emphasis. 


160  Notes  [Act  I 

129.  Condition.  Nature,  disposition.  Cf.  Oth. ii.  I.  255  :  "she's 
full  of  most  blessed  condition."  Cf.  also  "  best  conditioned,"  iii,  2. 
288  below. 

133>  Whiles.  The  genitive  singular  of  while  (which  was  origi- 
nally a  noun)  used  as  an  adverb.  It  occurs  in  Matthew,  v.  25. 

SCENE  III.  —  I.  Ducats.  The  value  of  the  Venetian  silver  ducat 
was  about  that  of  the  American  dollar. 

4.  For  the  which.  This  archaism  is  occasionally  found  in  S.,  as 
in  the  Bible  (Genesis,  i.  29,  etc.). 

7.  May  you  stead  me  ?  Can  you  assist  me  ?  May  originally 
expressed  ability,  as  the  noun  might  still  does.  Can,  on  the  other 
hand,  signified  "  to  know  or  have  skill."  On  stead,  cf.  M.  for  M. 
i.  4.  1 7  :  "  Can  you  so  stead  me  As  bring  me  to  the  sight  of 
Isabella?" 

Pleasure  me.  So  in  M.  W.  i.  I.  251 :  "  What  I  do  is  to  pleasure 
you,  coz." 

12.  A  good  man.  That  is,  "good"  in  the  commercial  sense  — 
"  having  pecuniary  ability  ;  of  unimpaired  credit." 

17.  In  supposition.    Doubtful,  risked  at  sea. 

1 8.  Tripolis.    The  old  name  of  Tripoli,  a  seaport  of  Syria,  for- 
merly of  great  commercial  importance.    Some  take  it  to  be  the  port 
of  the  same  name  in  Barbary ;  but  this  would  seem  to  be  disproved 
by  the  mention  of  both  Tripolis  and  Barbary  in  iii.  2.  263,  264. 
The  mention  of  Mexico  in  both  passages  is  a  slip  noted  by  Karl 
Elze,  as  Venice  does  not  appear  to  have  had  any  trade  with  that 
country. 

20.  Rialto.  The  chief  of  the  islands  on  which  Venice  was  built. 
See  p.  28  above.  The  name  is  from  rivo  (or  rio)  alto,  deep  stream  ; 
not,  as  often  stated,  from  riva  alta,  high  bank.  Rivo  alto  is  some- 
times wrongly  translated  as  "  high  shore  "  or  "  high  bank."  Some 
editors  also  err  in  saying  that  the  present  bridge  is  not  the  one 
built  in  1588-91.  It  took  the  place  of  an  earlier  wooden  bridge, 
but  has  never  been  rebuilt. 


Scene  III]  Notes  l6l 

21.  Squandered.     Scattered.     So  in  Howell's  Letters,  1650,  we 
have  "  islands  that  lie  squandered  in  the  vast  ocean."     S.  uses  the 
word  only  here  and  in  A.  Y.  L.  ii.  7.  57:  "squandering  glance's." 

22.  There  be  land-rats.      In  old  English,  besides  the  present 
tense  am,  etc.,  there  was  also  this  form  be,  from  the  Anglo-Saxon 
beon.     The  2d  pers.  sing,  was  beest.     The  1st  and  3d  pers.  plu.  be  is 
often  found  in  S.  and  the  Bible. 

32.  If  it  please  you.  This  impersonal  form  (cf.  the  French  s>il 
vous  plait},  after  being  contracted  into  if  you  please,  has  come  to 
be  considered  as  personal,  and  we  now  say  if  I  please,  if  he  pleases, 
etc. 

34.  Nazarite.  In  the  time  of  S.  confounded  with  Nazarene. 
For  Nazarite  in  the  proper  sense,  see  Numbers,  vi. 

36.  And  so  following.  And  so  forth.  S.  uses  the  phrase  nowhere 
else. 

41.  Publican.    Probably  a  tax-collector,  not  an  innkeeper.    Some 
critics  consider  fawning  inconsistent  with  the  former  sense ;   but 
the  publicans,  while  arrogant  to  inferiors,  might  find  it  politic  to  fawn 
upon  their  superiors. 

42.  For  he  is  a   Christian.     We  should  now  say,  for  being  a 
Christian.     When  thus  used,  for  is  often  followed  by  that,  as  in  the 
next  line.     Of  course  we  could  now  say,  "  I  hate  him,  for  he  is  a 
Christian,"  but  the  meaning  would  be  different.     In  this  case,  as  in 
the  other,  the  for  is  equivalent  to  because,  but  it  connects  more 
loosely,  as  the  comma  indicates.      The  difference  in   meaning  is 
perhaps  better  illustrated  by  a  case  like  the  following  ( M.  for  M. 

"  You  may  not  so  extenuate  his  offence 
For  I  have  had  such  faults  ;  " 

that  is,  the  fact  that  I  have  been  guilty  is  no  excuse  for  him.  The 
modern  reading  would  make  nonsense  of  it. 

46.  Upon  the  hip.  To  "  catch  upon  the  hip  "  was  a  phrase  used 
by  wrestlers.  Cf.  iv.  I.  327  below,  and  Oth.  ii.  I.  314. 

51.    Which  he  calls  interest.     Usance,  usury,  and  interest  were 

HER.    OF   VEN. —  II 


1 62  Notes  [Act  i 

equivalent  terms  in  S.'s  day.  It  was  disreputable  to  take  interest 
at  all.  It  was  considered  "  against  nature  for  money  to  beget 
money."  See  Bacon's  Essay  on  Usurie. 

53.  Debating  of  my  present  store.  Of  is  often  used  by  the 
Elizabethan  writers  in  the  sense  of  about  or  concerning.  Cf.  Temp. 
ii.  i.  8 1 :  "  You  make  me  study  of  that,"  etc. 

59.  Rest  you  fair.  God  grant  you  good  fortune !  You  is  the 
object,  not  the  subject,  of  rest.  Cf.  "  Rest  you  merry !  "  {R.  and  J. 
i.  2.  65)  and  "God  rest  you  merry!  "  {A.  Y.  L.  v.  i.  165). 

62.  Excess.     More  than  the  sum  lent  or  borrowed;   interest. 

63.  Ripe  wants.     Wants  that  admit  of  no  delay,  like  ripe  fruit 
that  must  be  gathered  at  once. 

64.  Possessed.     Informed.     Cf.  iv.    i.  35  below:    "I  have  pos- 
sess'd  your  grace  of  what  I  purpose."     The  question  is  addressed 
to  Bassanio. 

65.  How  much  you  would.      Would  is  often  used  absolutely,  as 
here,  for  wish  or  require. 

67.  /  had  forgot.  Of  course  this  falsehood  is  part  of  Shylock's 
strategy.  You  told  me  so  is  said  to  Bassanio. 

69.  Methought.  This  thought  is  from  the  Anglo-Saxon  verb 
thyncan,  to  seem,  and  not  from  thencan,  to  think.  It  is  used  im- 
personally, the  me  being  a  dative.  Methought  =  it  seemed  to  me. 

71.    When  Jacob,  etc.     See  Genesis,  xxvii.  and  xxx. 

74.  The  third  possessor.  Jacob  may  be  included,  as  some  sup- 
pose; but  it  is  more  likely  that  Shylock  refers  to  Esau,  who  had 
been  cheated  of  his  heritage  by  the  trickery  of  his  "  wise  mother." 

78.  Were  compromised.     Had  mutually  agreed. 

79.  Eanlings.     Lambs  just  brought  forth;    from  Anglo-Saxon 
eanian,   to   bring  forth.      Yeanling  is  another  form  of  the  same 
word,  and  was  substituted  by  Pope  here. 

Pied.  Spotted.  We  have  "  daisies  pied  "  in  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  904 
(and  in  Milton's  D ' Allegro} ;  and  in  Temp.  iii.  2.  71  Caliban  calls 
Trinculo  a  "pied  ninny,"  from  the  particoloured  coat  which  he 
wore  as  a  jester. 


Scene  III]  Notes  1 63 

Si.  Piird  me.  Peeled.  Cf.  the  Bible  narrative  (Genesis,  xxx. 
37,  38).  The  me  is  expletive,  as  often.  See  the  dialogue  between 
Petruchio  and  Grumio  in  T.  of  S.  i.  2.  8  fol. 

84.   Fall.     Let  fall,  bring  forth. 

90.  Was  this  inserted,  etc.  Was  this  inserted  in  Scripture  to 
justify  usury? 

94.  The  devil  can  cite  Scripture.     See  Matthew,  iv.  4,  6. 

95,  Producing  holy  witness.     Adducing  sacred  authority. 

10 1.  beholding.     Often  used  by  S.,  Bacon,  and  other  writers  of 
the  time,  instead  of  beholden. 

102.  Many  a  time  and  oft.     An  old  phrase,  still  familiar.     Here 
Shylock,  perhaps  irritated  by  Antonio's  impatient  question,  which 
reminds  him  of  the  Merchant's  arrogant  and  contemptuous  treat- 
ment of  him  in  the  past,  forgets  for  the  moment  the  part  he  is 
playing;   but  Antonio's  angry  and  scornful  reply  shows  him  the 
mistake  he  has  made,  and  he  at  once  resumes  his  artfully  friendly 
tone. 

107.  Misbeliever.     Strictly,   one  who  believes  wrongly,  as  un- 
believer is  one  who  does  not  believe,  or  an  infidel.     S.  uses  the 
word  only  here. 

108.  Spet.     An  obsolete  spelling  of  spit,  used  occasionally  by  S., 
as  it  is  by  Milton  in  the  one  instance  {Comus,  132)  in  which  he 
employs  the  word. 

Gaberdine.  A  long  coarse  frock.  See  Temp.  ii.  2.  40,  115. 
The  garment  and  the  name  are  still  used  by  the  peasantry  in  some 
parts  of  England. 

in.  Go  to.  A  phrase  of  exhortation  or  encouragement,  some- 
times used  scornfully.  Cf.  Temp.  v.  I.  297,  etc.;  also  Genesis,  xi. 
4,  etc. 

130.  A  breed  of  barren  metal.  Breed  is  money  bred  from  the 
principal.  Shylock  had  used  the  same  metaphor  for  interest.  Cf. 
Middleton,  The  Blacke  Booke :  "  coming  to  repay  both  the  money 
and  the  breed  of  it  —  for  interest  may  well  be  called  the  usurer's 
bastard,"  etc. 


164  Notes  [Act  i 

132.  Who  if  he  break.  The  "relative  with  a  supplementary 
pronoun "  often  occurs  in  the  writers  of  the  time.  Cf.  V.  and  A. 

935  ••  — 

"  Who,  when  he  liv'd,  his  breath  and  beauty  set 

Gloss  on  the  rose,  smell  on  the  violet." 

•' If  he  break?  that  is,  "break  his  day,"  fail  to  fulfil  his  engage- 
ment. Shylock  uses  the  phrase  in  159  below. 

134.  I  would  be  friends  with  you.  A  "  grammatical  impropriety," 
but  even  now  a  familiar  idiom. 

136.  Doit.    A  small  Dutch  coin,  worth  about  a  quarter  of  a  cent. 

141.    Your  single  bond.     Your  individual  bond,  without  sureties. 

In  a  merry  sport.  In  the  old  ballad  of  Gernutus  (see  page  24 
above)  the  Jew  says :  — 

11  But  we  will  haue  a  merry  iest, 

for  to  be  talked  long : 
You  shall  make  me  a  Band  (quoth  he) 
that  shall  be  large  and  strong. 

"  And  this  shall  be  the  forfeyture, 

of  your  own  Flesh  a  pound : 
If  you  agree,  make  you  the  Band, 
and  here  is  a  hundred  Crownes." 

144.  Let  the  forfeit,  etc.  Let  the  forfeit  named  be  an  exact 
{equal )  pound  of  your  flesh. 

147.  Pleaseth  me.  That  is,  "  it  pleaseth  me  "  (the  folio  reading). 
See  on  32  above. 

151.  Dwell.    Continue,  remain. 

157.  Dealings  teaches  them  suspect.  According  to  Abbott  (  Gram- 
mar, 333)  and  others,  teaches  is  an  instance  of  the  old  Northern 
plural  in  es,  which  is  sometimes  found  in  Elizabethan  writers. 
They  also  sometimes  omit  the  to  of  the  infinitive  (as  here  in  suspect) 
after  certain  verbs  which  now  require  it,  and  sometimes  insert  it 
where  now  it  is  omitted. 


Scene  III]  Notes  165 

163.  Muttons,  beefs.  These  Norman-French  words  are  here  used 
in  their  original  sense.  The  plural  beeves  is  still  used  for  the  living 
animals,  and  the  singular  form  beeve  is  occasionally  met  with. 

165.  If  he  will  take  it,  so.     That  is,  so  be  it,  or  something  of  the 
kind.     So  was  often  thus  used  as  a  particle  of  assent  or  affirmation. 

1 66.  For  my  love.     "  For  love's  sake,"  as  we  say;   or,  perhaps, 
"as  regards  my  love,"  or  friendly  feeling. 

171.  Fearful  guard  Of  an  unthrifty  knave.  Fearful  =  to  be 
feared  or  distrusted ;  untrustworthy.  Knave,  which  meant  origi- 
nally only  a  boy,  and  now  means  only  a  rogue,  was  in  current  use  in 
S.'s  time  with  either  signification. 


ACT  II 

SCENE  I.  —  The  stage  direction  in  the  first  folio  is :  "  Enter 
Morochus  a  tawnie  Moore  all  in  white,  and  three  or  foure  followers 
accordingly,  with  Portia,  Nerrissa,  and  their  traine.  Flo.  Cornets." 

I.   Complexion.     A  quadrisyllable.     See  on  i.  1.8  above. 

6.  Let  us  make  incision,  etc.     Red  blood  was  a  traditionary  sign 
of  courage.   Below  (iii.  2. 86)  Bassanio  talks  of  cowards  who  "  have 
livers  white  as  milk." 

7.  Reddest.    The  use  of  the  superlative  in  a  comparison  of  two 
objects,  though  condemned  by  most  of  the  modern  grammars,  is 

'  good  old  English.  9 

8.  Aspect  .  .  .  feared.     On  the  accent  of  aspect,  see  on  i.  I.  54 
above.     Feared—  caused  to  fear,  terrified.     In   T.  of  S.  i.  2.  211 
we  have  both  senses  of  fear  in  close  connection  :  "  Petruchio.   Tush  ! 
tush !  fear  boys  with  bugs.      Grumio.   For  he  fears  none." 

10.   Best-regarded.     Of  highest  estimation. 

12.  To  steal  your  thoughts.  To  gain  your  love.  Thought  (both 
in  the  singular  and  the  plural)  not  unfrequently  refers  to  love  in  S., 
and  steal  is  often  associated  with  love,  as  suggesting  its  gradual 
and  imperceptible  development.  Cf.  v.  i.  19  below,  for  instance. 


1 66  Notes  [Act  il 

Note,  by  the  way,  that  Morocco,  though  he  may  have  come  to 
Belmont  as  a  fortune  hunter,  is  honestly  enamoured  of  the  lady,  as 
this  entire  speech,  and  all  that  he  says,  clearly  prove.  It  is,  indeed, 
his  admiration  and  love  for  her  that  lead  him  to  choose  the  wrong 
casket.  Portia  understands  this,  and,  true  woman  that  she  is, 
shows  it  in  her  gentle,  half-pitying  treatment  of  him,  though  she  is 
glad,  of  course,  that  he  fails  in  the  lottery. 
14.  Nice  direction.  Fastidious  estimation. 

17.  Scanted.     Limited,  restricted.    Cf.  iii.  2.  112  below:  "Scant 
this  excess  ";   and  v.  I.  141 :  "  Scant  this  breathing  courtesy." 

1 8.  Wit.     In  its  original  sense  of  foresight,  ivisdom,  as  in  the 
familiar  expressions,  "  at  his  wit's  end,"  "  lost  his  wits,"  etc. 

20.  Yourself.  The  pronouns  myself,  thyself,  etc.,  were  often  used 
in  S.'s  time  (as  they  still  are  in  poetry)  as  the  subject  of  a  verb. 

Stood  as  fair.  Would  have  stood.  In  fair  some  suspect  an 
allusion  to  the  Moor's  complexion,  but  this  is  not  probable. 

25.  The  Sophy.     The  Sufi,  or  Shah  of  Persia.     Cf.  T.  N.  ii.  5. 
197,  and  iii.  4.  307.      Bacon  {Essay  43)  speaks  of  "  Ismael,  the 
Sophy  of  Persia." 

26.  Sultan  Solyman.     The  most  famous  sultan  of  this  name  was 
Solyman  the  Magnificent,  who  reigned  from  1520  to  1566. 

31.  Alas  the  while  !    This  expression,  like  Woe  the  while  !  (J.  C. 
i.  3.  82),  seems  originally  to  have  meant,  "  Alas  for  the  present  state 
of  things !  "  but  it  came  to  be  used  as  indefinitely  as  the  simple  alas  ! 

32.  Hercules  and  Lichas.   Lichas«was  the  servant  who  brought 
to  Hercules  the  poisoned  tunic  from  Dejanira. 

Play  at  dice  Which  is,  etc.  That  is,  in  order  to  decide  which  is, 
etc.  "  The  Elizabethan  writers  objected  to  scarcely  any  ellipsis, 
provided  the  deficiency  could  be  easily  supplied  from  the  context." 

35.  Alcides  beaten  by  his  page.  Alcides  was  the  original  name 
of  Hercules,  given  him  on  account  of  his  descent  from  Alcaeus,  the 
son  of  Perseus. 

42.  Be  advis'd.  Consider  well,  do  not  decide  in  haste.  Cf* 
advised  in.  i.  I.  142. 


Scene  II]  Notes  1 67 

43.  Nor  will  not.     That  is,  will  not  "  speak  to  lady,"  etc. 

44.  The  temple.     The  chapel  where  the  oath  was  to  be  taken. 
46.   Blest  or  cursed^st.     Blest  is  an  instance  of  the  ellipsis  of  the 

superlative  ending,  not  unusual  at  that  time.  Cf.  M.  for  M.  iv.  6. 
13:  "The  generous  and  gravest  citizens."  So  Heywood:  "Only 
the  grave  and  wisest  of  the  land;  "  and  Ben  Jonson:  "The  soft 
and  sweetest  music."  In  iii.  2.  288  we  have  "  The  best-conditioned 
and  unwearied  spirit,"  where  the  ellipsis  is  in  the  second  adjective. 

SCENE  II.  —  The  stage  direction  in  the  early  eds.  is  "  Enter  the 
flowne  alone" 

i.  Certainly  my  conscience  will  serve,  etc.  This  seems  to  express 
a  hope  rather  than  an  assurance  that  this  will  be  the  result  of  the 
conflict  between  his  conscience  and  the  "  fiend." 

7.  As  aforesaid.  From  Launcelot's  frequent  use  of  legal  phrase- 
ology we  might  infer  that  he  had  been  in  a  lawyer's  employ  before 
he  became  the  servant  of  Shylock;  but  the  Jew,  of  course,  was 
often  engaged  in  litigation,  and  Launcelot  may  have  picked  up  his 
law  terms  from  that  source. 

9.  Scorn  running  with  thy  heels.    The  play  upon  heels  is  obvi- 
ous.    Cf.  Much  Ado,  iii.  4.  51 :  "I  scorn  that  with  my  heels." 

10.  Via  !   Away !    (Italian).     Cf.  M.  W.  ii.  2.  159,  L.  L.  L.  v.  i. 
156,  etc. 

11.  For  the  heavens!     Mason  proposed  to  change   heavens  to 
haven,  because  "  it  is  not  likely  that  S.  would  make  the  Devil  con- 
jure Launcelot  to  do  anything  for  Heaven 's  sake ;  "  but  obviously 
the  wit  of  the  expression  consists  in  that  very  incongruity. 

19.  '  Fiend?  say  /,  * you  counsel  well.1  This  is  the  folio  reading; 
but  some  editors  prefer  that  of  the  quarto,  "  counsel  ill.91  Launce- 
lot probably  says  well  because  he  prefers  the  fiend's  advice. 

21.  God  bless  (or  save)  the  mark  !  The  origin  and  the  meaning 
of  this  expression  are  alike  obscure.  It  appears  to  be  used  most 
frequently  "  as  a  parenthetic  apology  for  some  profane  or  vulgar 
word*" 


1 68  Notes  [Act  II 

25.   Incarnation.     For  incarnate,  of  course. 

31.  Enter  old  Gobbo.  The  name  is  Italian  for  hunchback,  and 
Steevens  inferred  that  S.  intended  the  character  "  to  be  represented 
with  a  hump  back  ";  but  the  name  was  probably  then  a  family  one 
in  Italy,  as  it  is  now.  The  Washington  Hotel  in  Florence  is  now 
(1902)  kept  by  a  Gobbo,  and  I  have  seen  the  name  in  Pisa  also. 
For  the  statue  called  //  Gobbo  di  Rialto,  see  p.  34  above.  Tourists 
who  have  been  in  Verona  will  recollect  another  venerable  //  Gobbo 
which  sustains  a  holy-water  basin  in  the  church  of  Santa  Anastasia. 

34.  Sand-blind.     Dim  of  sight;    as  if  there  were  sand  in  the 
eye,  or  perhaps  floating  before  it.     High-gravel-blind  is  Launcelot's 
own  exaggeration  of  the  word. 

35.  Confusions.     A  blunder  for  conclusions,  which  is  the  reading 
of  one  of  the  early  quartos.     To  "  try  conclusions  "  (Ham.  iii.  4. 
195)  was  to  try  experiments. 

41.  Marry.  A  corruption  of  Mary.  It  was  originally  a  mode 
of  swearing  by  the  Virgin,  but  its  origin  had  come  to  be  forgotten 
in  S.'s  day. 

43.  God's  sonties.  Corrupted  from  God's  saints,  or  sanctities,  or 
sante  (health)  —  it  is  impossible  to  decide  which. 

50.  No  master,  sir,  etc.  Furnivall  quotes  Sir  Thomas  Smith's 
Commonwealth  of England (ed.  1612)  :  "As  for  gentlemen,  they  be 
made  good  cheap  in  England.  For  whosoeuer  studieth  the  laws  of 
the  Realm,  who  studieth  in  the  Uniuersities,  who  professeth  liberall 
Sciences :  and  to  be  short,  who  can  liue  idely,  and  without  manuall 
labour,  and  will  beare  the  port,  charge  and  countenance  of  a  Gen- 
tleman, hee  shall  bee  called  master,  for  that  is  the  tytle  which  men 
giue  to  Esquires,  and  other  Gentlemen,  and  shall  bee  taken  for  a 
Gentleman." 

52.  Well  to  live.     "  With  every  prospect  of  a  long  life." 

53.  What  a'  will.     A1  for  he  is  common  in  the  old  dramatists,  in 
the  mouths  of  peasants  and  illiterate  people. 

55.  Your  worship's  friend  and  Launcelot.  This  has  perplexed 
Ihe  critics.  We  might  expect  "  but  Launcelot "  —  from  an/body 


Scene  II]  Notes  169 

but  Old  Gobbo.  He  seems  to  mean,  "  He  is  your  friend,  and  so 
you  treat  him  as  an  equal  and  call  him  Master,  but  I  call  him  plain 
Launcelot" 

57.  Talk  you  of  young  Master  Launcelot?  The  early  eds.  make 
this  imperative,  and  not  interrogative,  and  are  followed  by  some 
editors,  but  the  majority  are  clearly  right  in  regarding  it  as  a 
question.  Master  is  emphatic. 

60.  Father.  Launcelot  twice  calls  Gobbo  father,  but  the  old 
man  does  not  even  suspect  with  whom  he  is  talking,  since  the 
peasantry  used  to  call  all  old  people  father  or  mother. 

62.    The  sisters  three.     The  Fates  of  classic  fable. 

87.  Your  child  that  shall  be.  Here  some  of  the  critics  have  been 
mystified  by  Launcelot's  incongruous  talk.  Malone  says,  "  Launce- 
lot probably  here  indulges  himself  in  talking  nonsense,"  but  he  is 
not  quite  sure  about  it;  and  Steevens  suggests  that  he  "may  mean 
that  he  shall  hereafter  prove  his  claim  to  the  title  of  child  by  his 
dutiful  behaviour,"  etc. 

95.  Lord  worshipped.  Perhaps,  as  some  explain  it  =  a  lord 
worshipful,  referring  to  the  beard  and  the  claim  to  the  title  of 
Master ;  or  Lord  worshipped  may  he  be!  may  be,  as  Mr.  Gum- 
mere  suggests,  "  merely  another  way  of  saying '  Lord  be  praised ! '  '^ 
According  to  stage  tradition,  Launcelot  kneels  with  his  back  to  the 
old  man,  who,  "  being  sand-blind,"  mistakes  the  hair  on  his  head 
for  a  beard. 

97.  Fill-horse.  Fill  for  thill,  or  shaft,  is  a  familiar  word  in  New 
England,  but  in  old  England  it  is  not  known  except  as  a  provin- 
cialism in  the  Midland  counties.  We  have  "  i'  the  fills  "  in  T.  and 
C.  iii.  2.  48. 

103.    Gree.    The  spelling  of  all  the  early  eds. 

105.  I  have  set  up  my  rest.  That  is,  I  have  determined.  "A 
metaphor  taken  from  play,  where  the  highest  stake  the  parties  were 
disposed  to  venture  was  called  the  rest."  The  expression  occurs 
several  times  in  the  plays. 

Iio.    Give  me  your  present.     See  on  i.  3.  81  above. 


i  yo 


Notes 


[Act  II 


122.  Gramercy.  A  corruption  of  the  French  grand  merci^ 
"great  thanks";  but  it  was  often  used  as  an  expression  of  sur- 
prise, like  "  mercy  on  us  !  "  as  if  derived  from  grant  mercy. 

132.  Cater-cousins.  The  origin  of  the  word  is  doubtful,  but  the 
meaning  evidently  is,  that  they  do  not  seem  much  akin,  or  do  not 

agree  very  well. 

137.  A  dish  of  doves.  See  p.  31 
above. 

148.  Preferred  thee.  To  prefer 
often  meant  to  "  recommend  for 
promotion,"  and  sometimes  to 
"promote." 

151.  The  old  proverb.  Alluding 
to  the  Scotch  proverb,  "The  grace 
of  God  is  gear  enough." 

157.  Guarded.   Trimmed,  orna- 
mented.     The  broidered   edging 
guarded    (protected)    the    cloth 
from  wear.     See  Hen.  VIII.  prol. 
1 6  and  Much  Ado,  i.  I.  288. 

158.  In.     Go  in;    as  in  C.  of 
E.  v.  i.  37,  etc. 

159.  Well,    if  any  man,   etc. 
The  construction  is,  "  Well,  if  any 
man  in  Italy  which  doth  offer  to 
swear  upon  a  book  have  a  fairer 
table  "  —  the  expression  being  like 

After  having  thus  admired   his 
As  Johnson 


FROM  A  BOOK  ON  CHIROMANCY, 
1558. 


"any  man  that  breathes,"  etc. 

table,  he  breaks  off   to   predict   his   good  fortune. 

remarks,  "  the  act  of  expanding  his  hand  "  reminds  him  of  laying 

it  on  the  book  in  taking  an  oath. 

In  chiromancy,  or  palmistry,  the  table  line,  or  line  of  fortune,  is 
the  one  running  from  the  forefinger  below  the  other  fingers  to  the 
side  of  the  hand.  The  natural  line  is  the  one  running  through  the 


Scene  IV]  Notes  17 1 

middle  of  the  palm.  The  line  of  life  is  the  one  which  encircles 
the  ball  of  the  thumb.  The  space  between  the  two  first  is  called 
mensa,  or  the  table. 

163.   Aleven.     A  vulgarism  for  eleven. 

1 68.  For  this  gear.    See  on  i.  i.  no  above. 

172.  Bestowed.  Put  away,  disposed  of.  Cf.  2  Kings ,  v.  24,  etc. 
See  also/.  C.  i.  3.  151,  etc. 

182.  Hear  thee.  In  this,  as  in  some  other  expressions  ("  fare 
thee  well,"  etc.),  thee  appears  to  be  used  for  thou,  and  not  reflexively. 

187.  Liberal.  Free,  reckless;  but  not  in  so  bad  a  sense  as  in 
Much  Ado,  iv.  1.93  ("a  liberal  villain"),  where  it  means  licentious. 

Take  pain.  We  now  use  only  the  plural,  "  take  pains."  S. 
uses  both.  See  below,  v.  i.  180. 

189.  Thy  skipping  spirit.  Thy  frolicsome  humour.  Cf.  Ham. 
Hi.  4.  123:  "Upon  the  heat  and  flame  of  thy  distemper  Sprinkle 
cool  patience."  Spirit  is  often  a  monosyllable,  as  if  pronounced 
sprit  (not  sprite}. 

198.  Studied  in  a  sad  ostent.  Trained  to  put  on  a  sober  aspect. 
Below  (ii.  8.  44)  we  have  "  fair  ostents  (manifestations,  tokens)  of 
love." 

207.  /  must  to  Lorenzo.  This  ellipsis  of  the  verb  was  common, 
especially  after  will;  as  "I  '11  to  him,"  R.  and  J.  iii.  2.  141,  etc. 

SCENE  III. —  10.   Exhibit.     For  inhibit  (restrain). 

15.  What  heinous  sin.  Possibly  this  is  one  of  the  instances  in 
which  what  is  used  for  what  a.  Cf.  /.  C.  i.  3.  42 :  »'  What  night  is 
this !  "  But  sin  may  be  used  in  the  general  sense  of  sinfulness. 

SCENE  IV.  —  5.  We  have  not  spoke  us  yet  of.  We  have  not  yet 
bespoken. 

6.  Quaintly.  Tastefully,  gracefully.  Quaint  in  the  old  writers 
means  elegant,  and  hence  artful,  ingenious.  In  Johnson's  day  it 
had  come  to  mean  affected,  and  now  it  has  "  the  united  sense  of 
antique  and  odd"  Cf.  "  quaint  lies  "  below,  iii.  4.  69. 


172  Notes  [Act  ii 

7.  Not  undertook.  We  have  "  undertaken  "  in  W.  T.  iii.  2.  79, 
and  "to  be  undertook"  in  Oth.  v.  2.  311.  S.  often  uses  two  or 
more  forms  of  the  participle.  Thus  in  J.  C.  we  have  stricken, 
struck,  and  strucken.  So  we  find  mistook  and  mistaken,  etc.  We 
must  bear  in  mind  that  the  Elizabethan  age  was  a  transitional 
period  in  the  history  of  the  language. 

10.  Break  up.     Break  open.     Break  up  was  a  term  in  carving; 
and  in  L.  L.  L.  iv.  I.  56  we  have  "break  up  this  capon,"  where 
the  "  capon  "  is  a  letter. 

13.  Writ.  S.  uses  both  writ  and  wrote  for  the  past  tense,  and 
writ,  written,  and  wrote  for  the  participle. 

23.  Provided  of.  Of  is  often  used  of  the  agent  (where  we  use 
by),  and  of  the  instrument  (for  with),  as  here.  Cf.  Macb.  i.  2.  13* 
"  supplied  of  kernes,"  etc. 

26.  Some  hour.  About  an  hour;  as  we  say  some  two  hours,  some 
six  months  ago,  etc. 

29.   Needs.     Of  necessity ;   a  genitive  used  adverbially. 

Directed  .  .  .  What  gold,  etc.  The  ellipsis  here  is  very  like  what 
is  called  a  zeugma. 

35.  Dare.  Either  the  "subjunctive  used  imperatively"  or  the 
3d  pers.  of  the  imperative. 

37.   Faithless.     Unbelieving;   as  in  Matthew,  xvii.  17. 

SCENE  V.  —  2.  Difference  of.  Cf.  Lear,  iv.  2.  26 :  "  O,  the  differ- 
ence of  man  and  man !  "  See  also  h.  I.  361  below. 

3.  What,  Jessica  !  A  customary  exclamation  of  impatience,  in 
calling  to  persons;  like  when  (  7^emp.  \.  2.  316,  J.  C.  ii.  I.  5,  etc.). 

11.  Bid  forth.     Invited  out.     Cf.  "  find  forth,"  i.  I.  143  above, 
and  "  feasting  forth,"  37  below.     S.  uses  bidden  only  in  Much  Ado, 
iii.  3.  32.     He  uses  both  bade  and  bid  for  the  past  tense.     See  on 
ii.  5.  7  above. 

17.  Towards  my  rest.     Against  my  peace  of  mind.     To  dream 
of  money  was  supposed  to  be  unlucky. 

18.  To-night.      That  is.  last  night;    as  in  /.  C.  iii.  3.  I  :    "I 


Scene  V]  Notes  173 

dream'd  to-night  that  I  did  feast  with  Caesar."  Usually  in  S.  it  has 
its  modern  meaning. 

21.  So  do  I  his.  Shylock  plays  upon  Launcelot's  blunder  of 
reproach  for  approach. 

25.  Black- Monday.  Easter  Monday;  so  called,  as  the  old 
chronicler  Stowe  tells  us,  because  "in  the  34th  of  Edward  III. 
(1360),  the  1 4th  of  April,  and  the  morrow  after  Easter-day,  King 
Edward  with  his  host  lay  before  the  city  of  Paris :  which  day  was 
full  dark  of  mist  and  hail,  and  so  bitter  cold  that  many  men  died 
on  their  horses'  backs  with  the  cold." 

30.  The  wry-neck? d  fife.  Wry-necked  may  refer  to  the  fife  or  to 
the  fifer,  but  the  former  is  more  probable,  on  account  of  the  preced- 
ing drum.  Barnaby  Rich  (1618)  says :  "A  fife  is  a  wry-neckt  musi- 
cian, for  he  always  looks  away  from  his  instrument."  On  the  other 
hand,  the  old  English  fife  (like  one  used  in  classical  times)  had  a 
bent  mouthpiece.  It  was  called  the  flute  a  bee,  as  the  mouthpiece 
resembled  the  beak  of  a  bird. 

36.  Jacob's  staff.     See  Genesis,  xxxii.  10,  and  Hebrews,  xi.  21.    In 
Spenser,  F.  Q.  i.  6.  35,  "  lacobs  staffe  "   more  probably  refers  to 
St.  James  (Jacobus),  who  is  usually  represented  with  a  pilgrim's 
hat  and  staff. 

37.  Of  feasting  forth.     Of —for,  as  often.     See  on  n  above. 
43.  Jewess'  eye.     It  is  "Jewes"  in  the  quartos  and  1st  and  2d 

folios,  "  Jew's  "  in  the  later  folios.  Pope  suggested  Jewess1,  which 
has  been  generally  adopted.  Launcelot's  phrase  is  a  slight  altera- 
tion of  the  proverbial  expression,  Worth  a  Jew's  eye.  The  Jews 
were  often  threatened  with  the  loss  of  an  eye,  or  some  other  muti- 
lation, in  order  to  extort  treasure  from  them. 

46.  Patch.  A  name  given  to  the  professional  jester  (from  his 
patched  or  particoloured  coat),  and  afterwards  used  as  a  term  of 
contempt. 

52.  Perhaps  I  will  return.  The  shade  of  meaning  is  such  as 
would  now  be  expressed  by  will — "Perhaps  I  may  decide  to  re- 
turn," or  something  of  the  sort.  "  I  shall  return  "  would  be  future 


174  Notes  [Act  ii 

pure  and  simple;  "I  will  return"  adds  the  idea  that  the  possible 
future  act  depends  upon  the  speaker's  will. 

SCENE  VI.  — 5.  Venus'  pigeons.  The  chariot  of  Venus  was 
drawn  by  doves.  In  Temp.  iv.  I.  94  she  is  described  as  "dove- 
drawn,"  and  her  "  doves "  are  also  referred  to  in  M.  N.  D.  i.  I.  171, 
etc. 

7.    Obliged.     Pledged,  plighted. 

9.  Sits  down.    That  is,  sits  down  with.    So  in  the  next  sentence, 
"pace  them   (with)."     This  ellipsis  of  a  preposition  which  has 
already  been  expressed  before  the  relative  is  quite  common  in  S. 
Cf.  below  (iv.  I.  382)  :   "  A  gift  of  all  (of  which)  he  dies  possess'd." 
See  also  on  i.  I.  125  above. 

10.  Untread  again.     Retrace. 

14.  Younger.     The  reading  of  all  the  early  eds.,  changed  by 
some  to  younker,  which  S.  uses  in  I  Hen.  IV.  iii.  3.  92  and  3  Hen. 
VL  ii.  i.  24. 

15.  Scarfed.     Decked  with  flags  and  streamers.     In  A.  W.  ii.  3. 
214  "scarfs"  are  associated  with  "  bannerets "  in  the  comparison 
of  a  person  to  a  "  vessel." 

17.  How  like  the  prodigal  doth  she  return.     The  reference  to  the 
Scripture  parable  is  obvious.    The  she  is  naturally  used  of  the  bark. 

1 8.  Over-weathered.     Weatherbeaten. 

30.  Who  love  7,  etc.  -The  inflection  of  who  is  often  neglected. 
Directly  after  a  preposition,  whom  is  usually  found.  Cf.  L.  L.  L.  ii. 
I.  2:  "Consider  ivho  the  king  your  father  sends,  To  whom  he 
sends."  But  in  Cymb.  iv.  2.  75  and  Oth.  i.  2.  52  we  have  the  in- 
terrogative who  even  after  a  preposition  :  "  To  who  ?  "  See  on  i.  2. 
32  above.  Sweet,  in  his  Short  Historical  English  Grammar  (Ox- 
ford, 1892),  says  :  "  In  present  spoken  English  whom  may  be  said 
to  be  extinct,  except  in  the  rare  construction  with  a  preposition 
immediately  before  it." 

35.   Exchange.    That  is,  of  apparel. 

42.    Too-too  light.     "  Too-too  "  was  often  (as  here)  a  compound 


Scene  VII]  Notes  175 

epithet,  and  should  then  have  the  hyphen;  but  in  some  cases  (as 
in  Ham.  i.  2.  129:  "this  too,  too  solid  flesh")  it  was  an  emphatic 
repetition,  just  as  it  is  now. 

43.  An  office  of  discovery ',  etc.  The  office  of  a  torchbearer  is  to 
show  what  is  in  the  way,  but  I  ought  to  keep  in  the  shade. 

47.   Close.     Secret,  stealthy. 

51.  By  my  hood.     Probably  swearing  by  the  hood  of  his  masque 
dress.      In  Gentile  there  is  perhaps  a  play  upon  gentle,  which  is 
found  in  some  of  the  early  eds. 

52.  Beshrew  me.    A  very  mild  imprecation,  often  used  playfully 
and  even  tenderly. 

54.  If  that.  This  use  of  that  as  "  a  conjunctional  affix "  was 
common.  Thus  we  have  "  when  that,"  "  why  that,"  "  while  that," 
"  though  that,"  "  since  that,"  etc. 

67.  Glad  on  V.  S.  often  uses  on  where  we  should  use  of.  In 
Temp.  i.  2,  on  't  =  of  it  occurs  three  times.  See  also  I  Samuel, 
xxvii.  II. 

SCENE  VII.  —  4.  Of  gold,  who.  In  the  Elizabethan  age,  which 
was  not  yet  established  as  the  neuter  relative.  It  was  often  applied 
to  persons  (as  in  the  Lord's  Prayer,  "  Our  Father  which  art  in 
heaven  ")  and  who  to  things.  In  the  next  line  but  one,  we  have 
"  silver,  which." 

5.  Who  chooseth,  etc.  The  inscriptions  are  all  in  Alexandrines 
(verses  of  six  accents  or  twelve  syllables). 

26.  If  thou  be'st  rated.  This  beest  must  not  be  confounded  with 
the  subjunctive  be.  It  is  the  Anglo-Saxon  bist,  2d  pers.  sing.  pres. 
indicative  of  bedn,  to  be.  See  on  i.  3.  22  above. 

29.  Afeard.     S.  uses  afeard  and  afraid  interchangeably. 

30.  Disabling.     Disparaging;   as  in  A.  Y.  L.  iv.  I.  34.  v.  4.  80, 
etc. 

34.   But  more  than  these,  in  lave  I  do  deserve.     This  line  alone 

would  prove  that  Morocco  is  really  in  love.     See  on  ii.  I.  12  above. 

41.  Hyrcanian.     Hyrcania  was  an  extensive  tract  of  country 


I76 


Notes 


[Act  II 


southeast  of  the  Caspian.  S.  three  times  mentions  the  tigers  of 
Hyrcania:  3  Hen.  VI.  i.  4.  155,  Macb.  iii.  4.  101,  and  Ham.  ii.  2. 
472.  Vasty  =  waste,  desolate,  like  the  Latin  vastus.  S.  uses  vast 
several  times  as  a  noun  —  waste. 

42.  Through/ares.      Thorough  and  through  are  the  same  word, 
and  S.  uses  either  as  suits  the  measure.     So  with  throughly  and 
thoroughly.     We  find  throughfare  again  in  Cymb.  i.  2.  n. 

43.  Come  view.     Come  to  view.     See  on  i.  3.  157  above. 
49.  Like.     Likely;  as  very  often. 


GOLDEN  ANGEL  OF  QUEEN  ELIZABETH 

50.    Too^gross,  etc.    Too  coarse  a  material  to  enclose  her  shroud. 
Cerecloth  —  cerement  (Ham.  i.  4.  48),  cloth  smeared  with  melted 
Wax  (Lat.  cerd)  or  gums,  for  embalming  the  dead. 
I    51.   Obscure  has  the  accent  on  the  first  syllable,  like  many  dis- 
syllabic adjectives  and  participles  when  used  before  a  noun. 

53.  Undervalued,  etc.  See  on  i.  I.  165  above.  During  the 
Middle  Ages,  and  down  to  the  sixteenth  century,  the  value  of 
silver  was  T^  and  ^j,  and  even,  as  here  stated,  T\j  that  of  gold. 
In  the  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth  century  it  fell  to  as  low  as  T\. 
In  the  eighteenth  it  rose  to  y^,  and  is  now  ^  or  less. 

57.  Insculfd  upon.  Graven  on  the  outside.  The  angel  was 
worth  about  ten  shillings.  It  had  on  one  side  a  figure  of  MichaeJ 
piercing  the  dragon;  The  use  of  the  device  is  said  to  have  origi- 


Scene  VIII]  Notes  177 

nated  in  Pope  Gregory's  pun  of  Angli  and  Angeli.  Verstegan,  in  his 
Restitution  of  Decayed  Intelligence,  says :  "  The  name  of  Engel  is 
yet  at  this  present  in  all  the  Teutonick  tongues,  to  wit,  the  high 
and  low  Dutch,  &c.,  as  much  to  say  as  Angel,  and  if  a  Dutch-man 
be  asked  how  he  would  in  his  language  call  an  Angel-like-man,  he 
would  answer,  ein  English-man,  Engel  being  in  their  tongue  an 
Angel,  and  English,  which  they  write  Engehche,  Angel-like.  And 
such  reason  and  consideration  may  have  moved  our  former  kings, 
upon  their  best  coin  of  pure  and  fine  gold,  to  set  the  image  of  an 
angel." 

63.   A  carrion  death.    That  is,  a  skull. 

65.  Glisters.  Glisten  does  not  occur  in  S.  nor  in  Milton.  In 
both  we  find  glister  several  times. 

77.  Part.  Depart,  See  Cor.  v.  6.  73 :  "  When  I  parted  hence/' 
etc.  Depart  was  also  used  where  we  should  say  part ;  as  in  the 
Marriage  Service,  "  till  death  us  do  part "  is  a  corruption  of  "  till 
death  us  depart." 

SCENE  VIII. —  12.  A  passion.  Passionate  outcry.  Cf.  T.  and 
C.  v.  2.  181 :  "Your  passion  draws  ears  hither." 

27.  Reasoned.    Talked,  conversed;   as  in  Rich.  III.  ii.  3.  39,  etc. 

28.  The  narrow  seas.    The  English  Channel  —  a  name  not  unfre- 
quently  applied  to  it  in  that  day.     It  occurs  again  iii.  I.  4  below. 

30.  Fraught.  We  now  use  fraught  (  =  freighted)  only  in  a 
figurative  sense.  Fraught  is  used  as  a  noun  in  T.  N.  v.  I.  64  and 
Oth.  iii.  3.  449.  Freight  does  not  occur  in  S.  or  Milton. 

33.  You  were  best.  Originally  the  you  was  dative  (to  you  it  were 
best),  but  it  came  to  be  regarded  as  a  nominative.  Cf.  J.  C.  iii.  3. 
13:  "Ay,  and  truly,  you  were  best;"  Temp.  i.  2.  366:  "Thou'rt 
best;"  r.  N.  \.  2.  27:  "She  were  better,"  etc.  See  also  v.  I.  175 
below. 

39.  Slubber.  To  do  carelessly  or  imperfectly.  It  also  means  to 
obscure,  or  soil;  as  in  Oth.  i.  3.  227:  "slubber  the  gloss  of  your 
new  fortunes." 

MER.  OF  YEN. —  12 


178  Notes  [Act  ii 

40.   Piping.     Ripeness,  maturity. 

42.  Mind  of  love.    That  is,  loving  mind.    Cf.  "mind  of  honour," 
M.  for  M.  ii.  4.  179. 

44.  Ostents.     Manifestations,  displays.     See  on  ii.  2.  198  above. 

45.  Conveniently.     In  its  original  sense,  fitly,  suitably.     Cf.  the 
adjective  in  iii.  4.  56  below. 

47.  Turning  his  face,  etc.     As  Malone  suggests,  we  have  here 
"the  outline  of  a  beautiful  picture." 

48.  Sensible.     Sensitive.     Cf.  L.  L.  L.  iv.  3.  337 :  "  Love's  feel- 
ing is  more  soft  and  sensible  Than  are  the  tender  horns  of  cockled 
snails." 

52.  Quicken  his  embraced  heaviness.      Enliven  the  melancholy 
he  indulges.     Cf.  iii.  2.  109  below:  "  rash-embrac'd  despair." 

53.  Do  we  so.     ist  pers.  imperative  (or  "  subjunctive  used  impera- 
tively ") ;  a  form  not  uncommon  in  S.     Cf.  Hen.  V.  iv.  8.  127 :  "  Do 
we  all  holy  rites !  "     See  also  v.  I.  36  below. 

SCENE  IX. —  18.   Addressed  me.     Prepared  myself. 
Fortune  now,  etc.     Success  now  to  the  hope  of  my  heart ! 

25.  By  the  fool  multitude.     For  by,  see  on  i.  2.  53;   and  for  the 
adjective  fool,  on  i.  I.  102  above. 

26.  Fond.     Foolish;   as  usually  in  S.     Cf.  iii.  3.  9  below. 

27.  The  martlet.     The  house-martin.     Cf.  Macb.  i.  6.  4:   "the 
temple-haunting  martlet." 

28.  In  the  weather.    Exposed  to  the  weather.    Cf.  Cymb.  iii.  3. 64 : 
"  left  me  bare  to  weather." 

31.  Jump  with.  Agree  with.  Cf.  Rich.  III.  iii.  I.  ii:  "out- 
ward show,  which  .  .  .  seldom  or  never  jumpeth  with  the  heart." 
Jump  also  means  to  risk,  hazard,  as  in  Macb.  i.  7.  7 :  "jump  the 
life  to  come." 

40.  Estates.  Ranks.  Cf.  Ham.  v.  i.  244:  " 't  was  of  some 
estate"  (that  is,  high  rank). 

43.  Should  cover,  etc.     Should  wear  their  hats,  that  now  take 
them  off,  as  to  superiors. 


Scene  ix]  Notes  179 

47.   Ruin.     Refuse,  rubbish. 

52.  Too  long  a  pause,  etc.  This  is  perhaps  an  Aside,  as  Capell 
and  Furness  assume,  but  I  doubt  it. 

60.  To  offend,  etc.  That  is,  an  offender  cannot  be  the  judge  of 
his  own  case.  For  the  accent  of  distinct,  see  on  ii.  7.  51  above. 

62.  Fire.  As  often,  a  dissyllable.  In  /.  C.  iii.  I.  171  we  have 
it  both  as  a  monosyllable  and  as  a  dissyllable :  "  As  fire  drives  out 
fire,  so  pity  pity."  Hours  is  a  dissyllable  four  times  in  as  many 
lines  in  3  Hen.  VL  ii.  5.  31-34,  and  a  monosyllable  four  lines  below. 
Cf.  iii.  2.  20  below. 

67.  I  wis.  This  is  a  corruption  of  the  adverbial  ywis  (certainly), 
but  S.  no  doubt  regarded  it  as  a  pronoun  and  verb. 

71.  You  are  sped.  Your  fate  is  settled.  Cf.  "you  two  are  sped," 
T.  of  S.  v.  2.  185.  See  also  Lycidas,  122:  "What  need  they? 
They  are  sped." 

77.  Wroth.  Some  make  the  word  =  ruth  (sorrow) ;  but  others 
take  it  to  be  another  form  of  wrath,  used  in  the  old  sense  of 
misfortune  or  calamity. 

84.  My  lord.  Used  jestingly  in  response  to  the  my  lady.  So 
in  I  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  317  the  prince  says,  "How  now,  my  lady  the 
hostess  ?  "  in  reply  to  her  "  My  Ior4  the  Prince  !  "  In  Rich.  II.  v. 
5.  67,  also,  a  groom  addresses  the  king,  "Hail,  royal  prince !  "  and 
Richard  replies,  "  Thanks,  noble  peer !  " 

88.  Sensible  regreets.     Tangible  greetings,  substantial  salutations. 
Regreet  strictly  means  a  responsive   greeting.      The  noun  occurs 
again  in  K.John,  iii.  I.  241. 

89.  Commends.     Cf.  Rich.  II.  iii.  I.  38  :   "I  send  to  her  my 
kind  commends." 

90.  Yet  I  have  not.     I  have  not  yet.      Yet  —  up  to  this  time,  is 
now  used  only  after  a  negative,  but  in  the  Elizabethan  age  it  was 
often  used,  as  here,  before  a  negative.     Cf.  T.  of  S.  ind.  I.  96:  "For 
yet  his  honour  never  heard  a  play  ;  "  and  this  from  Ascham's  Schole- 
master :  "  There  be  that  kepe  them  out  of  fier  and  yet  was  never 
burned  "  —  which  would  be  nonsense  nowadays. 


180  Notes  [Act  m 

91.  Likely.  In  the  Yankee  sense  of  promising.  Cf.  2  Hen.  IV. 
iii.  2.  186:  "  a  likely  fellow !  "  and  Id.  iii.  2.  273  :  "  your  likeliest 
men." 

97.  High-day  wit.  "  Holiday  terms,"  as  Hotspur  expresses  it 
(i  Hen.  IV.  i.  3.  46).  Cf.  M.  W.  iii.  2.  60 :  "he  speaks  holiday." 

99.  Cupid' 's post.  So  below  (v.  I.  46)  we  have  "  there  's  a  post 
come  from  my  master."  For  the  adverbial  mannerly,  cf.  Cymb. 
iii.  6.  92,  etc. 

xoo.  Bassanio,  lord  Love,  etc*     May  it  be  Bassanio,  O  Cupid ! 


ACT  III 

SCENE  I.  —  2.  //  lives  there  unchecked.  The  report  prevails  there 
uncontradicted. 

3.  Wracked.      The  only  spelling  of  wrecked  in  the  early  eds. 
The  noun  wrack  (never  wreck)  rhymes  with  back  in  Macb.  v.  5. 
51  and  four  other  instances  in  S. 

4.  The  Goodwins.     The  Goodwin  Sands,  off  the  eastern  coast  of 
Kent.     According  to  tradition,  they  were  once  an  island  belonging 
to  Earl  Godwin,  which  was  swallowed  up  by  the  sea  about  A.D.  1 100. 

9.  Knapped,  Nibbled ;  originally,  snapped,  broke  off.  The 
word  occurs  in  Psalms,  xlvi.  9  (Prayer-Book  version)  :  "  He  knap- 
peth  the  spear  in  sunder."  Ginger  was  a  favourite  condiment  with 
old  people. 

27.    The  wings,  etc.   The  boy's  clothes  she  wore  when  she  eloped. 

37.  Match.  Bargain,  compact.  Cf.  Cymb.  iii.  6.  30 :  "  't  is  our 
match,"  etc. 

39.  Smug.  Spruce,  trim.  Cf.  Lear,  iv.  6.  202 :"  a  smug  bride- 
groom." 

48.   Haifa  million.     That  is,  ducats. 

62.  Humility.  The  word  is  used  in  its  ordinary  sense,  but  is 
spoken  ironically :  "  What  is  his  professed  humility  ?  "  —  the 
humility,  or  patience  under  injuries  inculcated  by  his  "  prophet  the 


Scene  I] 


Notes 


181 


Nazarite  "  (in  Matthew,  v.  39,  for  instance).  It  has  essentially  the 
same  meaning  as  sufferance,  which  Shylock  here  opposes  to  it: 
If  the  humility  of  the  Christian  is  revenge,  what  should  the 
sufferance  of  the  Jew  be  "  by  Christian  example  "  ?  Schmidt  de- 
fines it  in  this  and  a  few  other  passages  as  "  kindness,  benevolence, 
humanity,"  and  some  critics  have  been  inclined  to  agree  with  him ; 


THE  GOODWIN  SANDS,  DURING  A  STORM 


but  in  all  these  passages  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word  is  equally  or 
more  satisfactory.  The  New  English  Dictionary  (Oxford)  does  not 
recognize  "  humanity  "  among  the  meanings  of  humility,  which  it 
illustrates  by  abundant  examples  from  the  fourteenth  to  the  nine- 
teenth century. 

65.  It  shall  go  hard,  etc.  I  will  spare  no  effort  to  outdo  you  in 
what  you  teach  me. 

71.   Matched.     That  is,  matched  with  them,  found  to  match  them. 

85.     Why,  so.    Well,  well.    Cf.  Rich.  II.  ii.  2.  87,  etc. 


1 82  Notes  [Act  in 

115.  My  turquoise.  The  folio  reads,  "  my  Turkies."  Tennyson 
spells  it  turkis,  which  is  still  an  allowed  pronunciation.  Marvellous 
properties  were  ascribed  to  this  "  Turkey-stone."  Its  colour  was 
said  to  change  with  the  health  of  the  wearer.  Cf.  Ben  Jonson, 
Sejanus  :  — 

"  And  true  as  Turkise  in  the  deare  lord's  ring, 
Looke  well  or  ill  with  him." 

And  Fenton  {Secret  Wonders  of  Nature,  1569)  says:  "The  Tur- 
keys doth  move  when  there  is  any  perill  prepared  to  him  that 
weareth  it." 

SCENE  II.  —  6.  Hate  counsels  not,  etc.  Hatred  would  prompt 
no  such  feeling. 

8.  And  yet  a  maiden  hath  no  tongue  but  thought.  And  yet  a 
maiden  must  not  venture  to  speak  all  that  she  feels;  or,  if  she 
speak  at  all,  she  must  speak  what  she  feels.  The  line  has  been 
much  discussed.  See  more  than  a  full  page  in  fine  print  upon  it  in 
Furness's  "  New  Variorum  "  ed. 

14.  Beshreiv.     See  on  ii.  6.  52  above. 

15.  CPerlooVd.     Bewitched  by  the  "evil  eye."     Cf.  M.  W.  v.  5. 
87 :  "  thou  wast  o'erlook'd  even  in  thy  birth." 

1 8.   Naughty.     Evil.     See  on  iii.  3.  9  below. 

20.  Though  yours,  not  yours.  One  yours  (preferably  the  sec- 
ond) must  be  a  dissyllable.  See  on  ii.  .9.  62  above. 

Prove  it  so,  etc.  If  it  prove  so  (that  is,  that  I  am  "  not  yours  "), 
let  fortune,  not  me,  bear  the  penalty.  See  on  314  below. 

22.  Peize.  The  French  peser,  to  weigh.  Here  it  means  to 
delay,  as  if  weighing  each  moment  deliberately,  or  (as  some  explain 
the  figure)  as  if  the  time  were  retarded  by  hanging  weights  to  it. 
S.  uses  the  word  in  the  sense  of  weigh  in  Rich.  II.  v.  3.  105,  and  in 
that  of  poise  in  K.John,  ii.  I.  575. 

26.  Then  confess,  etc.  Alluding  to  the  use  of  the  rack  to  extort 
confession. 


Scene  II]  Notes  1 83 

29.  Fear  the  enjoying.  Fear  for  the  enjoying.  Cf.  iii.  5.  3  and 
29  below. 

44.  A  swan-like  end.  Cf.  Oth.  v.  2.  247 :  "  I  will  play  the  swan, 
And  die  in  music";  and  K.John,  v.  7.  21 :  "this  pale,  faint  swan, 
Who  chants  a  doleful  hymn  to  his  own  death." 

54.  Presence.     Dignity  of  mien. 

55.  Alcides.     Laomedon,  king  of  Troy,  had  offended  Neptune, 
who  threatened  to  inundate  the  country  unless  the  monarch  should 
sacrifice  his  daughter  Hesione.     Accordingly,  she  was  fastened  to 
a  rock  on  the  seashore  to  become  the  prey  of  a  sea  monster.     Her- 
cules rescued  her,  not  for  "  love,"  but  to  get  possession  of  a  pair  of 
famous  horses  belonging  to  the  king. 

58.  Dardanian  wives.  Trojan  women.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  iii.  3.  40, 
etc. 

63.  Fancy.  Love;  as  often.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  \.  I.  155:  "  sighs 
and  tears,  poor  fancy's  followers."  So  also  in  compounds,  as 
"fancy-free"  (M.  N.  D.  ii.  I.  164),  "fancy-sick"  (Id.  iii.  2.  96), 
etc.  The  Song  describes  in  exquisite  imagery  the  birth  and  the 
death  of  a  transient  affection,  "  engendered  in  the  eye,"  not  in  the 
heart. 

74.   Still.     Ever.     See  on  i.  I.  17  above. 

76.  Seasoned.  This  carries  on  the  metaphor  suggested  by  tainted. 
It  is  a  homely  figure,  taken  from  the  use  of  salt  to  preserve  meat, 
but  it  is  a  favourite  one  with  S. 

79.   Approve.     Justify,  prove. 

8 1.  No  vice  so  simple.     So  unmixed. 

82.  His  outivard  parts.     Its  outward  parts.     Its  was  just  coming 
into  use  in  the  Elizabethan  age.     It  does  not  occur  in  the  present 
play,  or  in  any  earlier  one,  except  once  in  2  Hen.  VI.  iii.  2.  393, 
where  the  folio  has  ifs  and  the  old  play  has  his.     In  the  folio  the 
form  its  is  found  only  in  M.  for  M.  i.  2.  4,  while  ifs  occurs  nine 
times.     //  as  a  genitive  (or  "  possessive  ")  is  found  fourteen  times, 
in  seven  of  which  it  precedes  own.    This  it  is  an  early  provincial 
form  of  the  old  genitive.     In  King  James's  version  of  the  Bible 


1 84  Notes  [Act  in 

(1611)  its  does  not  occur  at  all,  and  the  possessive  it  only  in 
Leviticus,  xxv.  5  ("it  own  accord"),  changed  in  modern  editions 
to  "  its  own." 

86.  Livers  white  as  milk.     See  on  ii.  1.6  above. 

87.  Excrement.     Used,  as  the  related  word  excrescence  still  is, 
for  a  superficial  growth.     It  refers  here  to  the  beards;  as  in  L.  L.  L. 
v.  I.  109:  "dally  with  my  excrement,  with  my  mustachio."     It  is 
also  applied  to  the  hair  in  C.  of  E.  ii.  2.  79  and  W.  T.  iv.  4.  734. 

91.  Lightest.    That  is,  in  a  bad  sense.     Cf.  below  (v.  I.  129), 
"  Let  me  give  light,  but  let  me  not  be  light,"  etc. 

92.  Crisped.     Curled.     Milton  (Comus,  984)  speaks  of  "crisped 
shades  and  bowers,"  referring  to  the  leaves  waved  and  curled  by 
the  wind. 

94.  Upon  supposed  fairness.     On  the  strength  of  their  fictitious 
beauty.     The  expression  seems  to  be  closely  connected  with  the 
preceding  line,  and  not  with  the  one  before  that,  as  some  make  it. 

95.  The  dowry,  etc.     S.  has  several  times  expressed  his  antipathy 
to  false  hair.     In  Sonn.  68  there  is  a  passage  very  similar  to  the 
one  in  the  text.     See  also  T.  of  A.  iv.  3.  144:  "Thatch  your  poor 
thin  roofs  With  burdens  of  the  dead."     In  L.  L.  L.  iv.  3.  258  Biron 

savs :  — 

"  O,  if  in  black  my  lady's  brows  be  deck'd, ' 

It  mourns  that  painting  and  usurping  hair 
Should  ravish  doters  with  a  false  aspect.** 

It  was  then  comparatively  a  recent  fashion.  Stow  says,  "  Women's 
periwigs  were  first  brought  into  England  about  the  time  of  the 
massacre  of  Paris"  (1572).  Barnaby  Rich,  in  1615,  says  of  the 
periwig  sellers  :  "  These  attire-makers  within  these  forty  years  were 
not  known  by  that  name.  .  .  .  But  now  they  are  not  ashamed  to 
set  them  forth  upon  their  stalls  —  such  monstrous  mop-poles  of 
hair  —  so  proportioned  and  deformed  that  but  within  these  twenty 
or  thirty  years  would  have  drawn  the  passers-by  to  stand  and  gaze, 
and  to  wonder  at  them." 
97.  GuileJ.  Full  of  guile,  treacherous.  S.  has  many  similar 


Scene  II]  Notes  185 

participial  adjectives  derived  from  nouns,  and  meaning  "  endowed 
with  (the  noun)." 

99.  An  Indian  beauty.  This  has  been  a  great  stumbling-block 
to  the  critics,  who  have  proposed  "  dowdy,"  "  gipsy,"  "  favour " 
(=  face),  "visage,"  "feature,"  "beldam,"  etc.,  in  place  of  beauty. 
Indian  is  used  in  a  derogatory  sense,  and  the  occurrence  of  beau- 
teous and  beauty  in  the  same  sentence  is  not  at  all  unlike  S.'s 
manner. 

1 02.  Hard  food  for  Midas.  An  allusion  to  the  story  of  Midas, 
king  of  Phrygia,  who  gained  from  Bacchus  the  power  to  change 
whatever  he  touched  to  gold,  and  found  to  his  sorrow  that  even  his 
food  was  thus  transmuted. 

I  will  none  ofthee.     See  on  ii.  2.  207  above. 

1 06.  Thy  plainness.  The  folio  and  both  quartos  have  "  pale- 
nesse."  Warburton  suggested  the  emendation,  which  is  adopted 
by  the  majority  of  editors.  The  antithesis  of  plainness  and  elo- 
quence is  more  natural  and  more  forcible,  especially  after  that  of 
threatenest  and  promise  in  the  preceding  line.  It  is  an  objection  to 
paleness  that  pale  has  just  been  applied  to  the  silver  casket. 

no.  Green-eyed  jealousy.  Cf.  "green-eyed  monster,"  in  Oth.  iii. 
3.  166. 

112.  Rain  thy  joy.  The  later  quartos  have  rein,  which  some 
prefer;  but  in  measure  expresses  the  idea  of  restraint,  so  that  In 
measure  rain  thy  ioy  corresponds  to  both  allay  thy  ecstasy  and 
scant  this  excess.  The  succession  of  antitheses  emphasizes  the 
idea.  In  measure  rein  would  introduce  a  weak  tautology. 

115.  Counterfeit.  Portrait.  Cf.  T.  of  A.  v.  I.  83:  "Thou 
draw'st  a  counterfeit  Best  in  all  Athens." 

120.   Hairs.     Cf.  L.  L.  L.  iv.  3. 142 :  "  her  hairs  were  gold,"  etc. 

126.  Unfurnished.  Unaccompanied  by  the  other  eye,  or,  per- 
haps, by  the  other  features. 

130.  Continent.  In  its  original  sense  of  that  which  contains. 
Cf.  Ham.  iv.  4.  64 :  "  tomb  enough  and  continent ";  and  v.  2.  115: 
"you  shall  find  in  him* the  continent  of  what  part  a  gentleman 


1 86  Notes  [Act  ill 

would  see  "  (that  is,  find  him  containing  every  quality  which  a  gen- 
tleman would  desire  to  contemplate  for  imitation). 

140.  I  come  by  note,  etc.     "I  come  according  to  written  warrant 
(the  scroll  just  read)  to  give  a  kiss  and  receive  the  lady." 

141.  Prize.     By  metonymy,  for  the  contest. 

156.  Livings.  Possessions,  fortune.  Cf.  v.  I.  260:  "you  have 
given  me  life  and  living."  See  also  Mark,  xii.  44,  etc. 

158.  Sum  of  nothing.  This  is  the  reading  of  the  folio,  and  is 
more  in  keeping  with  the  negative  characteristics  which  follow  than 
"  sum  of  something,"  the  reading  of  the  quartos,  which  some  edi- 
tors adopt.  To  term  in  gross  =  to  state  in  full;  to  make  the 
most  of  it.  Cf.  gross  in  i.  3.  55  above. 

174.  Be  my  vantage,  etc.  Be  a  sufficient  ground  for  my  crying 
out  against  you.  "  Exclaim  on  "  occurs  elsewhere,  but  S.  also  uses 
"  exclaim  against." 

1 78.  Fairly  spoke.  S.  uses  both  spoke  and  spoken  as  participles. 
See  on  ii.  4.  7  above. 

191.  None  from  me.  That  is,  none  away  from  me,  since  you 
have  enough  yourselves.  This  meaning  of  from  is  not  uncommon, 
and  is  played  upon  in  Rich.  III.  iv.  4.  256-261. 

195.   So  thou  canst  get.     If  thou  canst;  a  common  use  of  so. 

19*.  As  swiff.  The  Elizabethan  writers  use  adjectives  freely  as 
adverbs. 

199.  Intermission.  Delay ;  that  is,  I  can  be  as  prompt  in 
making  love  as  you  are.  ,  Some  editors  follow  the  1st  folio,  which 
joins  intermission  to  lotfd.  The  meaning  then  is,  I  made  love  for 
pastime,  or  to  occupy  myself  while  you  were  wooing  Portia.  Inter" 
mission  is  metrically  five  syllables.  See  on  i.  1.8  above. 

208.  Achieved  her  mistress.  S.  often  uses  achieve  in  this  sense. 
Cf.  T.  of  S.  i.  1. 161 :  "  If  I  achieve  not  this  young  modest  girl,"  etc. 

212.  Our  feast  shall  be.  Shall '  =  will,  as  often.  See  on  i.  I.  117 
above. 

214.  Salerio.  Some  critics  have  doubted  whether  this  is  the 
name  of  a  new  character,  or  one  of  the  various  forms  of  Salarino 


Scene  II]  Notes  187 

or  Salanio  found  in  the  old  editions ;  but  that  it  is  the  former  is 
probable  from  the  fact  that  the  name  is  spelt  Salerio  in  every  instance 
in  which  it  occurs  (five  times  in  the  text  and  once  in  a  stage  direc- 
tion) in  both  the  quartos  and  the  folios,  while  Salarino  and  Salanio 
appear  as  Salarino,  Salaryno,  Salerino,  Slarino,  Solarino,  Solanio, 
Salino,  Salinio,  and  Solania.  Furness  thinks  that  the  limited  num- 
ber of  actors  in  the  old  theatres  would  prevent  the  introduction  of 
a  new  character  here  ;  but  this  play  has  fewer  characters  than  the 
average,  even  if  we  add  Salerio. 

216.     If  that.     See  on  ii.  6.  54  above. 

218.  Very  friends.  True  friends.  Cf.  R.  and  J.  iii.  I.  115: 
"  My  very  friend."  See  also  John,  vii.  26. 

228.  Doth.  Dost  and  doth  are  the  established  forms  for  the 
auxiliary;  doest  and  doeth,  in  other  cases.  In  old  writers  we  find 
the  former  used  for  the  latter,  as  here.  Cf.  J.  C.i.i.S:  "What 
dost  thou  with  thy  best  apparel  on  ?  " 

231.  Estate.  State,  condition  ;  as  often.  On  the  other  hand, 
state  is  sometimes  found  in  the  sense  of  estate.  See  254  below. 

235.  Success.     Elsewhere  S.  often  uses  this  word  in  its  old  sense 
of  issue,  result. 

236.  Won  the  fleece.     Cf.  i.  I.  170  above. 

238.  Shrewd.     Evil;  the  original  sense  of  the  word. 

239.  Steals.     A  relative  in  S.  often  takes  a  singular  verb  though 
the  antecedent  be  plural. 

242.  Constant.  Steadfast,  self-possessed.  Cf.  Temp.  i.  2.  207 : 
M  Who  was  so  firm,  so  constant,"  etc. 

246.  Unpleasant st.  This  harsh  contraction  of  superlatives  was 
common.  Cf.  Macb.  ij.  i.  24:  "At  your  kind'st  leisure";  Id.  ii.  2. 
4:  "stern'st  good  night,"  etc. 

257.  Mere.  Absolute,  thorough.  Cf.  Oth.  ii.  2.  3 :  "The  mere 
perdition  of  the  Turkish  fleet,"  etc. 

261.  Issuing.     Pouring  forth.     Intransitive  verbs  are  not  un- 
frequently  used  transitively  by  S. 

262.  Hit.     Hit  the  mark,  succeeded. 


1 88  Notes  [Act  m 

265.  Scape.  Not  to  be  printed  "  'scape."  It  is  found  often  in 
prose. 

267.  Should  appear.     Would  appear.     See  on  i.  2.  92. 

268.  Discharge.     Pay.     Cf.  C.  of  E.  iv.  4.   122:  "I  will  dis 
charge  thee." 

271.    Confound.     Destroy,  ruin  ;  as  often. 

273.  Impeach  the  freedom  of  the  state.  Denies  that  strangers 
have  equal  rights  in  Venice.  Cf.,  however,  iv.  1 .  38,  where  Shylock 

Bays : — 

"  If  you  deny  me,  let  the  danger  light 

Upon  your  charter  and  your  city's  freedom  ;  ** 

as  if  the  freedom  depended  upon  a  charter  which  might  be  revoked 
by  the  power  that  had  granted  it.  The  thought  here  may  be  the 
same. 

275.  Magnificoes  of  greatest  port.     Grandees  of  highest  .rank. 

276.  Persuaded  with.      Used  persuasion  with.      It  is  the  only 
instance  in  which  S.  joins  with  to  this  verb. 

277.  Envious.     Malicious.     So  envy  =  malice,  in  iv.  I.  10,  121 
below ;  as  often. 

280.  To  Tubal  and  to  Chus.  Karl  Elze  says  that  the  names  are 
"  taken  from  Genesis,  x.  2,  6,  without  change  ";  but  there  the  latter 
name  is  Cush.  Perhaps  Chus  in  the  old  eds.  was  a  misprint  for 
Cush.  According  to  the  dictionaries,  ch  is  pronounced  like  k  in  all 
Hebrew  proper  names,  with  the  single  exception  of  Rachel ;  but 
Chus,  if  it  be  a  true  Hebrew  name,  should  probably  be  regarded  as 
another  exception. 

284.  Deny.  Forbid.  Elsewhere  it  means  refuse;  as  in  ii.  2. 
1 80,  etc. 

288.  Best-conditioned  and  unwearied.  That  is,  most  unwearied. 
See  on  ii.  I.  46  above.  For  conditioned,  see  on  i.  2.  129  above. 

296.  Description.     A  quadrisyllable.     See  on  199  above. 

297.  Hair.     A  dissyllable.     See  on  ii.  9.  62  above. 

307.  Cheer.  In  its  original  meaning  of  countenance.  Ct.M.N.D. 
ii.  2.  96 :  "  pale  of  cheer,"  etc.  It  is  the  French  chere,  which  even 


Scene  III]  Notes  189 

up  to  the  sixteenth  century  was  used  in  the  sense  of  head,  face.  In 
some  of  the  provincial  dialects  of  France  the  word  still  retains  its  old 
meaning. 

308.  Dear  bought.  "Dearly  bought"  (iv.  1.95);  the  adjective 
used  adverbially,  as  often. 

One  would  suppose  that  the  playfulness  of  this  line,  with  its 
pretty  pun  on  dear,  was  self-evident,  but  some  critics  take  it  in  all 
seriousness.  One,  for  instance,  says  :  "  Portia  could  not  possibly 
intend  by  these  words  ungenerously  to  remind  Bassanio  of  the 
benefits  she  had  conferred  upon  him.  They  must,  I  think,  relate 
to  that  anxiety  and  distress  of  mind  which  she  had  undergone 
during  the  time  that  his  fate  was  in  suspense ;  possibly,  too,  to  the 
grief  she  was  now  about  to  suffer  in  his  absence."  In  other  words, 
Portia  does  not  refer  to  her  marriage  with  Bassanio  as  a  mercantile 
transaction,  but  she  does  remind  him  that  she  has  had  to  pay  a 
rather  heavy  price  for  him  in  mental  anxiety  on  his  behalf. 

312.  Is  forfeit.  Is  forfeited.  So  below,  iv.  I.  358:  "thy  wealth 
being  forfeit."  This  contraction  is  not  uncommon  in  the  past  par- 
ticiple of  verbs  ending  in  -#/or  -/.  See  on  v.  I.  1 1  below. 

314.  Yoit  and  /.  Cf.  "  who  you  shall  rightly  love,"  i.  2.  32,  and 
"  not  I  "  for  " not  me,"  in  21  above.  See  also  Oth.  iv.  2.  3 :  "you 
have  seen  Cassio  and  she  together."  This  disregard  of  the  inflec- 
tions of  pronouns  was  common  in  writers  of  the  time. 

SCENE  III.  —  9.  Naughty.  This  word  was  formerly  used  in  a 
much  stronger  sense  than  at  present.  In  Much  Ado,  v.  i.  306  the 
villain  Borachio  is  called  a  "  naughty  man";  and  Gloster,  in  Lear, 
iii.  7.  37,  when  the  cruel  Regan  plucks  his  beard,  addresses  her  as 
"  Naughty  lady !  "  Cf.  Proverbs,  vi.  12,  etc.  See  also  v.  i.  91  below. 

Fond.  Foolish;  as  in  ii.  9.  26  above.  This  was  the  original 
sense  of  the  word,  and  is  often  found  in  S. 

10.    To  come.    That  is,  as  to  come.     Cf.  Rich.  III.  iii.  2.  26:  — 

"  I  wonder  he  is  so  fond 
To  trust  the  mockery  of  unquiet  slumbers." 


190  Notes  [Act  m 

14.  Dull-eyed.  Wanting  in  perception,  stupid;  not  with  eyes 
dimmed  with  tears,  as  some  make  it. 

19.   Kept.     Kept  company,  dwelt.     Cf.  L.  L.  L.  iv.  I.  100,  etc. 
23.   Made  moan.     See  on  i.  I.  126  above. 

25.  Grant  this  forfeiture  to  hold.     Allow  it  to  hold  good. 

26.  Deny  the  course  of  law.     Interfere  with  it,  refuse  to  let  it 
take  its  course.     See  on  iii.  2.  284  above. 

27.  For  the  commodity,  etc.     For  if  the  advantages  heretofore 
enjoyed  by  strangers  in  Venice  be  refused  them,  it  will  seriously 
impeach  the  justice  of  the  state.     See  on  i.  I.  178  above. 

32.  Bated.  Reduced,  lowered.  Cf.  "bated  breath,"  i.  3.  120 
above.  It  should  not  be  printed  ''bated,  since  it  is  not  a  mere 
metrical  contraction  of  abated,  but  a  distinct  word  (cf.  wake  and 
awake,  etc.)  often  found  in  prose  writers. 

35.  Pray  God.  The  subject  is  omitted,  as  even  now  in  "Would 
to  God,"  etc, 

SCENE  IV.  —  2.    Conceit.     Conception,  notion. 

6.  Send  relief.     For  the  omission  of  the  preposition,  see  on  i.  I. 
125  above. 

7.  Lover.     Friend.     So  just  below,  "bosom  lover."     Cf.  J.  C.  iii. 
2.    13:    "Romans,   countrymen,   and   lovers."      See   also    Psabns, 
xxxviii.   II.     The  word,  moreover,  was  formerly  applied   to  both 
sexes,  as  paramour  and  villain  were.     Even  now  we  say  of  a  man 
and  woman  that  they  are  lovers,  or  a  pair  of  lovers. 

9.  J^han  customary  bounty,  etc.  Than  ordinary  benevolence 
can  constrain  you  to  be. 

11.  Nor  shall  not.    See  on  i.  2.  26  above.     Companion  was  some- 
times used  contemptuously,  as  fellow  still  is.     See  /.  C.  iv.  3.  138: 
"Companion,  hence  !  "  etc. 

12.  Waste.     Spend.     Cf.   Milton   {Sonnet  to  Mr.   Lawrence) : 
"Help  waste  a  sullen  day";  where,  however,  the  idea  of  "killing 
time  "  is  more  evident  than  here. 

14.  Be  needs.  Just  below  we  have  the  more  familiar  needs  be* 
For  needs,  see  on  ii.  4.  29  above. 


Scene  IV]  Notes  191 

25.  Husbandry.  Stewardship.  Cf.  T.  of  A.  ii.  2.  164:  "If  you 
suspect  my  husbandry,"  etc. 

Manage.  Cf.  Temp.  i.  2.  70 :  "  The  manage  of  my  state."  The 
word  is  especially  used  of  horses;  as  in  I  Hen.  IV.  ii.  3.  52: 
"Speak  terms  of  manage  to  thy  bounding  steed,"  etc. 

28.    Contemplation.     Metrically  five  syllables. 

30.  Her  husband,  etc.  An  ellipsis  like  those  in  ii.  i.  46  and  iii. 
2.  288  above.  Cf.  Hen.  VIII.  ii.  3.  16 :  "As  soul  and  body's  sever- 
ing," etc. 

33.  Deny  this  imposition.  Refuse  this  charge  laid  upon  you. 
See  on  i.  2.  105  above.  - 

45.  Balthasar.     This  name  (sometimes  Balthazar}  is  found  also 
in  C.  of  £.,  R.  and  f.,  and  Much  Ado,  and  is  always  accented  on 
the  first  syllable. 

46.  As  I  have  ever  found  the e,  etc.      Thou  and  thee  are  generally 
used  in  addressing  servants,  and  in  affectionate  familiarity  with 
relatives  and  friends.     Portia  generally  addresses  Nerissa,  who  is  a 
waiting-gentlewoman,  not  an  ordinary  servant,  with  you,  but  some- 
times, as  in  i.  2  and  here  (62,  79),  with  thou.     When  you  is  used 
with  a  servant  it  generally  implies  anger  or  reproof. 

50.  Cousin's  hand.  The  word  cousin  in  that  day  was  often  used 
instead  of  our  kinsman  and  kinswoman. 

52.  With   imagined  speed.     With   the   speed   of  thought.     Cf. 
Hen,  V.  iii.  chor.    I :  "  Thus  with  imagin'd  wing  our  swift  scene 
flies." 

53.  Tranect.     The  word  occurs  nowhere  else.     It  may  be  a  mis- 
print for  "traject,"  the  English  equivalent  of  the  French  trajet, 
Italian  traghetto.     Coryat   {Crudities,   1611)   says:  "There  are  in 
Venice  thirteen  ferries  or   passages,   which   they   commonly   call 
Traghetti,  where  passengers  may  be  transported  in  a  gondola  to 
what  place  of  the  city  they  will." 

56.    Convenient.     Proper,  suitable.     See  on  ii.  8.  45  above. 

59.    Of  us.    That  is,  of  our  seeing  them. 

61.  Accomplished.     Furnished.    Cf.  Rich.  //.  ii.  I.  177:  "Ac- 


192  Notes  [Act  in 

complish'd  with  the  number  of  thy  hours";  that  is,  when  he  was 
of  thy  age.  See  also  Hen.  V.  iv.  chor.  12:  "The  armourers 
accomplishing  (that  is,  equipping)  the  knights." 

65.  Braver.  Finer,  more  showy.  Both  brave  and  bravery  are 
often  used  in  this  sense  with  reference  to  dress,  personal  appear- 
ance, etc.  See  Temp.  i.  2.  6,  411,  ii.  2.  122,  iii.  2.  12,  etc.  Cf. 
Isaiah,  iii.  1 8.  The  Scottish  braw  is  the  same  word. 

67.  Mincing.  This  word  was  not  always  contemptuous.  In 
the  one  instance  in  which  Milton  uses  it  (Comus,  964:  "the  minc- 
ing Dryades")  it  appears  to  mean  tripping  lightly  or  gracefully. 
Cf.  also  Drayton,  Polyolb.  Song  27  :  "  Ye  maids,  the  hornpipe  then 
so  mincingly  that  tread." 

69.    Quaint.     Ingenious,  elaborate.     See  on  ii.  4.  6  above. 

72.  /  could  not  do  withal.  I  could  not  help  it.  In  Palgrave's 
Lesclaircissement  de  la  Lang.  Fr.t  1530,  we  find  it  thus  explained: 
"  /  can  nat  do  withall,  a  thyng  lyeth  nat  in  me,  or  I  am  nat  in 
faulte  that  a  thyng  is  done." 

75.  That  men.  This  omission  of  so  before  that  is  very  common. 
See  /.  C.  i.  I.  50:  "That  Tiber  trembled  ";  Macb.  ii.  2.  7:  "That 
death  and  nature  do  contend,"  etc. 

77.  Raw.  Crude,  or,  in  Yankee  parlance,  "green."  Cf.  A.  Y.L. 
iii.  2.  76:  "Thou  art  raw,"  etc. 

Jacks.  A  common  term  of  contempt.  See  Much  Ado,  v  I.  91, 
Rich.  Iff.  i.  3.  72,  etc. 

79.  All  my  'whole.  Cf.  I  Hen.  VI.\.  I.  126:  "All  the  whole 
army";  Hen.  VIII.  i.  I.  12:  "All  the  whole  time,"  etc. 

SCENE  V.  —  3.  I  fear  you.  That  is,  fear^br  you;  as  in  iii.  2.  29 
above  and  in  29  below.  Cf.  Rich.  III.  i.  i.  137:  "  his  physicians 
fear  him  mightily." 

4.   Agitation.     The  clown's  blunder  for  cogitation. 

14.  When  I  shun  Scylla,  etc.  In  the  Alexandreis  of  Philip 
Gaultier,  written  in  the  early  part  of  the  thirteenth  century,  we  find 
the  line,"  Incidis  in  Scyllam,  cupiens  vitare  Charybdim,"  which  had 


Scene  V]  Notes  193 

been  often  quoted  and  translated  by  English  writers  before  the 
time  of  S. 

•  20.  Enow.  A  form  of  enough,  generally  plural.  Cf.  'iv.  I.  29 
below. 

43.  Cover.  Launcelot  quibbles  on  the  two  meanings  of  the 
word,  to  lay  the  table  and  to  wear  one's  hat  (see  above,  ii.  9.  43 : 
"How  many  then  should  cover,"  etc.). 

47.  Quarrelling  with  occasion.  Quibbling  on  every  oppor- 
tunity. 

57.  Discretion.  Discrimination.  Suited  =  suited  to  each  other, 
arranged. 

60.  A  many.     This  expression  is  obsolete,  though  we  still  say  a 
few,  and  many  a  in  a  distributive  sense.     It  is  occasionally  used  in 
poetry,  as  by  Gerald  Massey  {Lovers  Fairy  Ring}  :  — 

"  We've  known  a  many  sorrows,  Sweet : 
We've  wept  a  many  tears." 

See  also  Tennyson  {Miller's  Daughter)  :  "  They  have  not  shed  a 
many  tears." 

61.  Garnished.    Furnished,  equipped. 

For  a  tricksy  word,  etc.  For  a  quibbling  word  (or  a  play  upon 
words),  set  the  meaning  at  defiance. 

62.  How  cheer' st  thou  ?     Equivalent  to  "  What  cheer  ?   How  is  't 
with  you?"  in  W.  T.  i.  2.  148. 

63.  Good  sweet.    No  term   of  compliment  or  endearment  did 
more  service  in  that  day  than  sweet.     This  combination  of  good 
sweet  occurs  in   Cor.  i.  3.  119,  M.  W.  iv.  2.  189,  etc.     Opinion  is 
here  a  quadrisyllable,  as  in  i.  I.  102. 

69.   Mean  it.     That  is,  intend  to  live  an  upright  life. 

74.  Pawrtd.  Staked,  wagered.  Cf.  Cor.  ii:.  1.15,  Cymb.  i.  4. 
1 1 8,  etc. 

81.  Howsoever.  The  folio  has  "how  som  ere" — a  common 
vulgarism  in  that  day. 

MER.   OF  VEN. —  13 


194  Notes  [Act  iv 


ACT  IV 

SCENE  I.  —  5.  Uncapable.  S.  uses  both  in^^pable  (six  times) 
and  uncapable  (twice).  So  we  find  uncertain  and  incertain,  un- 
constant  and  inconstant,  unfortunate  and  infortunate,  ungrateful 
and  ingrateful,  etc. 

6.  From.     S.  generally  has  empty  of.    This  is  the  only  instance 
of  empty  from. 

7.  Qualify.     Moderate,  temper;  as  often. 

8.  Obdurate.     The  accent  is  on  the  penult,  as  always  in  S. 

9.  And  that.     Here  that  is  omitted  after  since,  and  is  then  in- 
serted in  the  second  clause  without  since.    This  is  a  common  con- 
struction in  the  Elizabethan  writers.     In  most  cases  the  subjects  of 
the  clauses  are  different.     Cf.  T.  and  C.  ii.  2.  177 :  — 

"  //"this  law 

Of  nature  be  corrupted  through  affection, 
And  that  great  minds,"  etc. 

On  the  use  of  that  with  if,  since,  when,  etc.,  see  on  ii.  6.  54  above. 

10.  Envy's.     See  on  iii.  2.  277  above.     Cf.  Mark,  xv.  10. 

18.  Lead' }st  this  fashion,  etc.  You  keep  up  this  show  of  malice 
only  until  the  final  hour  of  execution. 

20.  Remorse.  Relenting,  pity.  This  is  its  usual  meaning  in  S. 
Cf.  K.  John,  ii.  I.  478:  "Soft  petitions,  pity,  and  remorse,"  etc. 
So  remorseful  =  compassionate,  and  remorseless  =  pitiless  (as  at 
present). 

22.  Where.  Whereas.  Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  iii.  i.  74:  "Where  I 
thought  the  remnant  of  mine  age,"  etc.;  L.  L.  L.  ii.  I.  103: 
"Where  now  his  knowledge  must  prove  ignorance";  Cor.\.  10.  13: 
"  Where  I  thought  to  crush  him,"  etc.  On  the  other  hand,  whereas 
sometimes  =  where,  as  in  2  Hen.  VI.  i.  2.  58 :  "  Whereas  the  king 
and  queen  do  mean  to  hawk." 

24.  Loose.     Release,  reftti* 


Scene  I]  Notes  195 

26.  Moiety.  Portion,  share  (not  an  exact  half) ;  as  often  in  S. 
Cf.  Ham.  i.  I.  90:  "a  moiety  competent"  (a  proper  share),  etc. 

29.  Royal  merchant.  This  epithet  was  striking  and  well  under- 
stood in  S.'s  time,  when  Sir  Thomas  Gresham  was  honoured  with 
the  title  of  the  royal  merchant,  both  from  his  wealth,  and  because 
he  transacted  the  mercantile  business  of  Queen  Elizabeth;  and  at 
Venice  the  Giustiniani,  the  Grimaldi,  and  others  were  literally 
"  merchant  princes,"  and  known  as  such  throughout  Europe.  For 
enow,  see  on  iii.  5.  20  above. 

34.  Gentle.     No  pun  on  Gentile  is  intended,  as  some  have  sup- 
posed.    It  could  only  have  angered  the  Jew. 

35.  Possessed.     See  on  i.  3.  64  above. 

36.  Sabbath.     One  early  ed.  has  "  Sabaoth."   Bacon  and  Spenser 
confound  the  signification  of  the  two  words,  and  Dr.  Johnson,  ii> 
the  first  edition  of  his  Dictionary,  treated  them  as  identical. 

39.    Your  charter.     See  on  iii.  2.  273  above. 

41.    Carrion.     A  favourite  term  of  contempt  with  S. 

43.  But,  say,  it  is.  But  suppose  it  is.  The  commas  are  required 
to  make  the  sense  clear. 

47.  Some  men  there  are  love  not.  The  relative  is  omitted,  as 
often.  A  gaping  pig  is  either  a  pig  brought  to  table  with  a  lemon 
or  apple  in  its  mouth,  or  the  living,  squealing  animal. 

49.  Masters  of  passion.  Agencies  (such  as  he  has  been  speak- 
ing of)  that  move  either  the  sympathy  or  antipathy  of  any  man. 
Passion  is  used  in  the  original  sense  of  feeling  or  emotion.  Cf. 
/.  C.  i.  2.  48 :  "I  have  much  mistook  your  passion,"  etc. 

52.  Abide.  Bear,  endure.  Cf.  Temp.  i.  2.  360:  "which  good 
natures  Could  not  abide  to  be  with,"  etc. 

55.   Lodg'd.     Settled,  abiding. 

59.    Current.     Persistent  course. 

65.    Think  you  question.     Consider  that  you  are  arguing  with. 

67.  Main  flood.  The  "  ocean  tide."  Cf.  "the  flood,"!.  I.  10. 
*The  main"  generally  means  the  sea  (as  in  Rich.  III.  i.  4.  20: 
"tumbling  billows  of  the  main"),  but  sometimes  the  main  land. 


196 


Notes  [Act  iv 


£L  Ham.  iv.  4.  15:  "the  main  of  Poland,"  and  Lear,  iii.  I.  6: 
"  swell  the  curled  waters  'bove  the  main." 

77.  With   all  brief  and  plain   conveniency.     With  all  proper 
brevity  and  directness. 

78.  Have  judgment.     Receive  sentence.     Cf.  Luke,  xix.  22. 
87.    Parts.     Capacities,  employments. 

99.    Upon  my  power.     By  virtue  of  my  prerogative. 

101.  Determine.  Decide.  The  word  sometimes  means  to  put 
an  end  to,  as  in  2  Hen.  IV.  iv.  5.  82 :  "  Till  his  friend  sickness  hath 
determin'd  me  ";  sometimes,  to  come  to  an  end,  as  in  Cor.  v.  3. 1201 
"  till  these  wars  determine." 

1 1 8.  Not  on  thy  sole,  but  on  thy  soul.  Cf.  the  quibble  in  J.  €.  i. 
I.  15:  "a  mender  of  bad  soles."  For  the  sentiment,  cf.  2.  Hen. 
IV.  iv.  5.  107  :  — 

"  Thou  hid'st  a  thousand  daggers  in  thy  thoughts, 
Which  thou  hast  whetted  on  thy  stony  heart." 

1 20.  The  hangman1  s   axe.     So  in  Fletcher's  Prophetess,  iii.  2, 
Dioclesian,  who  had  stabbed Aper,  is  called  "the  hangman  of  Volu- 
sius  Aper";   and  in  Jacke  Drums  Entertainment  (1616),  when 
Brabant  Junior  says,  "let  mine  owne  hand  Be  mine  owne  hang- 
man," he  refers  to  stabbing  himself.     In  the  Duke  of  Buckingham's 
Rehearsal,  Bayes  speaks  of  "  a  great  huge  hangman,  .  .  .  with  his 
sword  drawn."     In  Much  Ado   (iii.  2.  n)  Cupid  is  called  "the 
little  hangman." 

121.  Envy.     Malice.     See  on  iii.  2.  277  above. 
124.    For  thy  life.     For  allowing  thee  to  live. 

126.  Pythagoras.  The  philosopher  of  Samos,  to  whom  was 
attributed  the  doctrine  of  the  transmigration  of  souls.  Cf.  T.  N. 
iv.  2.  54 :  "  Clown.  What  is  the  opinion  of  Pythagoras  concerning 
wild-fowl?  Malvolio.  That  the  soul  of  our  grandam  might  haply 
inhabit  a  bird." 

129.  Hanged  for  human  slaughter.  According  to  Jewish  law 
(Exodus,  xxi.  28),  ar.  ox  that  gored  a  man  to  death  was  stoned. 


Scene  I]  Notes  197 

In  the  Middle  Ages  animals  that  had  injured  or  killed  human  beings 
were  often  tried  and  executed.  Many  instances  of  such  judicial  pro- 
ceedings in  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries  are  mentioned  by 
Baring-Gould  in  his  Curiosities  of  Olden  Times  (1896).  In  1386  a 
judge  at  Falaise  condemned  a  sow  to  be  hanged  for  having  lacerated 
and  killed  a  child.  In  1389  a  horse  was  tried  and  condemned  to  die 
for  killing  a  man.  In  1499  a  bull  was  similarly  sentenced  at  Cou- 
roy,  near  Beauvais,  for  causing  the  death  of  a  boy.  The  trials, 
which  were  conducted  with  all  the  formalities,  were  sometimes 
before  the  ordinary  courts,  sometimes  before  th^  ecclesiastical  ones. 
In  some  cases,  appeals  to  a  higher  court  were  made,  and  decided 
in  due  form.  During  the  witch  persecutions  in  Salem,  Mass.,  dogs 
were  hanged  for  supposed  complicity  with  persons  accused. 

133.  Starved.  The  word  originally  meant  to  die,  but  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  sixteenth  century  came  to  be  used  in  the  narrower  sense 
of  perishing  with  cold —  a  meaning  which  it  still  has  in  the  North 
of  England  (see  2  Hen.  VI.  iii.  I.  343,  etc.)  — or  with  hunger. 

143.  Go  give.  Cf.  "come  view,"  ii.  7.  43;  "go  sleep,"  Rick.  II. 
iv.  I.  139;  "go  seek  the  king,"  Ham.  ii.  I.  101,  etc. 

154.    To  fill  up.    To  fulfil. 

156.  No  impediment  to  let  him  lack.  No  hindrance  to  his 
receiving.  Of  this  peculiar  form  of  "  double  negative  "  (which  it 
virtually  is)  there  are  several  instances  in  S. 

164.  The  difference^  etc.  The  dispute  which  is  the  subject  of 
the  present  trial. 

1 66.    Throughly.     See  on  ii.  7.  42  above. 

171.    Such  rule.     Such  due  form. 

173.  Within  his  danger.  Cf.  V.  and  A.  639 :  "  Come  not  within 
his  danger,"  etc. 

177.  The  quality  of  mercy,  etc.     The  very  nature   of  mercy 
excludes  the  idea  of  compulsion. 

1 78.  It  droppeth,  etc.     Cf.  Ecclesiasticus,  xxxv.  20 :   "  Mercy  is 
seasonable  in  the  time  of  affliction,  as  clouds  of  rain  in  the  time  of 
drought." 


198  Notes  [Act  iv 

183.  Shows.  Represents.  Cf.  Rick.  II.  iii.  4.  42:  "  Showing,  as 
in  a  model,  our  firm  estate." 

189.  Show.     Show  itself,  appear.     Cf.  ii.  2.  186  above. 

190.  Seasons.     Tempers.     Cf.  Edward  III.  (1596): 

"  And  kings  approach  the  nearest  unto  God 
By  giving  life  and  safety  unto  men." 

193.  We  do  pray  for  mercy,  etc.  S.  probably  had  the  Lord's 
Prayer  immediately  in  his  mind,  but  the  sentiment  is  also  found  in 
Ecclesiasticus,  xxviii. 

197.   Follow.     Insist  upon. 

20 1.   Discharge.     Pay.     See  on  iii.  2.  268  above. 

203.  Twice.  Some  critics  would  change  this  to  thrice,  because 
we  have  "  thrice  the  sum  "  just  below,  but  there  is  no  necessity  for 
bringing  the  two  passages  into  mathematical  agreement.  S.  is  often 
careless  in  these  little  arithmetical  matters. 

207.  Truth.  Honesty.  So  "  a  true  man  "  was  an  honest  man, 
as  opposed  to  a  thief.  See  M.  for  M.  iv.  2.  46 :  "  Every  true  man's 
apparel  fits  your  thief";  I  Hen.  IV.  ii.  2.  98:  "the  thieves  have 
bound  the  true  men,"  etc. 

216.  A  Daniel  come  to  judgment.  The  allusion  is  to  the  History 
of  Susanna,  45 :  "  The  Lord  raised  up  the  holy  spirit  of  a  young 
youth,  whose  name  was  Daniel,"  etc.  See  also  Ezekiel,  xxviii.  3, 
and  Daniel,  vi.  3. 

241.  Hath  full  relation,  etc.  Clearly  recognizes  that  this  pen- 
alty (like  any  other)  should  be  paid. 

244.  More  *elder.  Double  comparatives  and  superlatives  are 
common  in  the  Elizabethan  writers.  In  S.  we  find  "  more  larger  " 
(A.  and  C.  iii.  6.  76),  "more  better"  (Temp.  i.  2.  19),  "most 
boldest"  (/.  C.  iii.  I.  121),  "  most  unkindest  "  (Id.  iii.  2.  187),  etc. 
In  Rick.  II.  ii.  I.  49  we  find  "less  happier,"  the  only  instance  with 
less  found  in  S. 

248.  Balance.  A  contracted  plural,  as  the  verb  and  them  in 
Shylock's  answer  prove.  Such  plurals  often  occur  (as  also  do  pos- 


Scene  I]  Notes  199 

sessive  cases)  with  nouns  ending  in  a  sibilant  sound;  as  horse,  sense, 
place,  service,  etc. 

250.    On  your  charge.     At  your  expense. 

261.  Still  her  use.  Ever  her  custom.  See  on  i.  I.  17  above. 
On  use,  cf.  J.  C.  ii.  2.  25  :  "  these  things  are  beyond  all  use." 

265.  Such  misery.  Misery  may  have  the  accent  on  the  penult 
both  here  and  in  1C.  John,  iii.  4 :  "  And  buss  thee  as  thy  wife. 
Misery's  love,"  etc. 

268.  Speak  me  fair  in  death.  Speak  well  of  me  when  I  am 
dead.  "Romeo  that  spoke  him  fair"  (R.  and  J.  iii.  I.  158) 
means  "  Romeo  that  spoke  to  him  in  conciliatory  terms;  "  and  this 
is  the  usual  meaning  of  the  phrase. 

270.   A  love.     Cf.  lover  in  iii.  4.  17  above. 

274.  With  all  my  heart.  Cf.  Rich.  II.  ii.  I.  74  fol.,  where  the 
dying  Gaunt  jests  on  his  name;  and  where,  in  reply  to  Richard's 
question,  "  Can  sick  men  play  so  nicely  with  their  names?  "  he  says : 
"  No,  misery  makes  sport  to  mock  itself. "  The  pun  is  the  only  one 
that  Antonio  utters.  He  treats  the  matter  lightly  in  the  hope  of 
making  his  friend  feel  it  less. 

276.    Which  is  as  dear.     See  on  ii.  7.  4  above. 

288.  These  be.     See  on  i.  3.  22  above. 

289.  Barrabas.     So  spelled  and  accented  (on  first  syllable)  in 
the  time  of  S.     In  Marlowe's  Jew  of  Malta  the  name  is  Barabas, 
not  Barabbas. 

291.  Pursue.  Accented  on  the  first  syllable.  Cf.  pursuit  in 
Sonn.  143.  4. 

304.  Confiscate.  Confiscated.  This  Latinism  is  most  frequent 
in  verbs  derived  from  the  first  conjugation  (as  dedicate,  consecrate, 
degenerate,  suffocate,  etc.),  but  it  is  found  in  other  Latin  derivatives. 

321.     The  substance.     The  amount. 

327.   I  have  thee  on  the  hip.     See  on  i.  3.  46  above. 

340.  The  law  hath  yet  another  hold  on  you.  S.  is  not  willing  to 
let  the  case  depend  on  the  legal  quibbles  which  he  takes  from  the 
old  stories  (their  omission  would  have  been  resented  by  the  theatre- 


200  Notes  [Act  iv 

goers  of  that  day),  but  adds  the  sound  law  of  this  speech,  which  is 
entirely  his  own. 

342.   Alien.     A  trisyllable.     See  on  i.  I.  8  above. 

345.  Contrive.  Plot.  Cf./.  C.  ii.  3.  16 :  "  the  fates  with  traitors 
do  contrive,"  etc. 

365.  Which  humbleness,  etc.     Which  humble   entreaty  on  thy 
part  may  induce  me  to  commute  for  a  fine. 

366.  Ay,  for  the  state,  etc.     That  is,  the  half  which  goes  to  the 
state  may  be  thus  commuted,  but  not  Antonio's. 

376.  In  use.  In  trust  for  Shylock,  for  the  purpose  of  securing  it 
at  his  death  to  Lorenzo.  Use  does  not  mean  interest,  which  Anto- 
nio has  said  (i.  3.  61  above)  that  he  neither  gives  nor  takes. 

382.    Of  all  he  dies  possessed.     See  on  i.  I.  125  above. 

392.  Ten  more.  To  make  up  a  jury  of  twelve.  This  appears  to 
have  been  an  old  joke.  Of  course  it  is  out  of  place  here,  as  trial  by 
jury  was  unknown  in  Venice. 

395.  Desire  your  grace  of  pardon.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iii.  I.  185: 
"  desire  you  of  more  acquaintance;  "  and  Oth.  iii.  3.  212 :  "  beseech 
you  of  your  pardon." 

399.  Gratify.  Recompense.  Cf.  Cor.  ii.  2.  44:  "To  gratify 
his  noble  service,"  etc. 

405.    Cope.     Reward,  requite. 

414.    Offeree.     Of  necessity.    Perforce  is  still  used  in  this  sense. 

Attempt.  Tempt.  Cf.  M.  for  M.  iv.  2.  205  :  "  neither  my  coat, 
integrity,  nor  persuasion  can  with  ease  attempt  you." 

444.  Commandement.  The  spelling  in  all  the  early  eds.  The 
word  is  also  a  quadrisyllable  in  i  Hen.  VI.  i.  3.  20 :  "  From  him  I 
have  express  commandement." 

SCENE  II.  —  6.  Upon  more  advice.  Upon  further  consideration. 
Cf.  M.  for  M.  v.  I.  469:  "after  more  advice";  and  Rich.  If.  i.  3. 
233:  "upon  good  advice"  (after  due  deliberation),  etc. 

15.  Old  swearing.  Old  in  this  intensive  or  augmentative  sense 
is  common  in  writers  of  the  time.  For  other  examples  in  S.;  see 


Scene  II]  Notes  2OI 

Macb.  ii.  3.  2,  M.  W.  i.  4.  5,  Much  Ado,  v.  2.  98,  and  2  Hen.  IV.  ii. 
4.  21.  Cf.  the  slang  phrase  of  our  day,  "  a  high  old  time,"  and  other 
familiar  uses  of  old  ("  old  fellow,"  "old  boy,"  etc.). 


ACT  V 

SCENE  I.  —  4.  Troilus.  S.  in  the  play  of  Troilus  and  Cressida 
makes  "  Cressid  "  the  daughter  of  the  soothsayer  Calchas,  but  her 
name  is  not  found  in  classic  fable.  The  allusion  here  is  borrowed 
from  Chaucer's  Troilus  and  Cresseide,  in  which  the  prince  is 
described  as  watching  "  upon  the  walles  "  for  Cressida's  coming. 

7.  Thisbe.  The  story  of  the  Babylonian  lovers,  Pyramus  and 
Thisbe,  is  told  by  Ovid.  Golding's  translation  was  published  in 
1564,  but  S.  may  have  read  the  original.  He  probably  drew  more 
directly  from  Chaucer's  Legende  of  Goode  Women,  in  which  Thisbe, 
Dido,  and  Medea  are  introduced  one  after  another.  He  had  already 
used  the  story  in  the  M.  N.  D. 

10.  Dido.  The  picture  of  Dido  is  not  in  accordance  with  Virgil's 
narrative.  It  may  have  been  suggested  by  that  of  Ariadne  in  the 
Legende  of  Goode  Women  (2187  fol.)  :  — 

41  to  the  stronde  barefote  fast  she  went.  — 

****** 
Hire  kerchefe  on  a  pole  styked  shee, 
Ascaunce  that  he  shulde  hyt  wel  ysee, 
And  hym  remembre  that  she  was  behynde, 
And  turn  agayne,  and  on  the  stronde  hire  fynde." 

The  earliest  reference  to  the  willow  as  a  symbol  of  forsaken  love 
is  found  in  a  manuscript  collection  of  poems  by  John  Heywood, 
about  1530.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  ii.  I.  194,  225,  Oth.  iv.  3.  28  fol., 
3  Hen.  VI.  iii.  3.  228,  etc. 

I':.  Waft.  For  wafted,  as  in  K.  John,  ii.  I.  73 :  "Than  now  the 
English  bottoms  have  waft  o'er."  Cf.  lift  for  lifted  in  I  Hen.  VI. 
\.  i.  1 6,  Genesis,  vii.  17,  Psalms,  xciii.  3,  etc* 


2O2  Notes  [Act  v 

13.  Medea.  The  allusion  is  to  the  fable  of  her  restoring  ALson, 
the  father  of  Jason,  to  youthful  vigour  by  her  enchantments.  Ovid 
tells  us  that  she  drew  blood  from  his  veins,  and  supplied  its  place 
with  the  juice  of  certain  herbs. 

16.  Unthrift.  We  have  the  adjective  again  in  T.  of  A.  iv.  3.  311, 
and  the  noun  in  Rich.  II.  ii.  3.  122,  Sonn.  9.  9  and  13.  13. 

28.  Stephano.  In  the  Temp,  (written  ten  or  more  years  later) 
this  name  has  the  accent  on  the  first  syllable,  where  it  belongs. 

31.  Holy  crosses.  These  are  very  common  in  Italy.  There  is  a 
shrine  of  the  Madonna  del  Mare  in  the  midst  of  the  sea  between 
Mestre  and  Venice,  and  another  between  Venice  and  Palestrina, 
where  the  gondolier  and  mariner  cross  themselves  in  passing. 

36.  Go  we  in.  See  on  ii.  8.  53  above.  In  "let  us  prepare,"  in 
the  next  line,  we  have  the  ordinary  form  of  the  1st  pers.  imperative. 

39.    Sola,  etc.     An  imitation  of  the  post-horn. 

41.  Master  Lorenzo,  etc.  The  early  eds.  have  "  M.  Lorenzo, 
M.  Lorenzo,"  "  M.  Lorenzo  &  M.  Lorenzo,"  and  "  M.  Lorenzo  and 
Mrs.  Lorenza." 

53.  Music.  This  word  sometimes  meant  musical  instruments,  or 
a  band  of  music.  See  Hen.  VIII.  iv.  2.  94 :  "  Bid  the  music  leave  ; 
They  are  harsh,"  etc.  Cf.  98  below :  "  It  is  your  music,  madam,  of 
the  house." 

56.    Creep  in.    In  was  often  used  for  into. 

59.  Patines.  The  patine  was  the  plate  used  for.  the  sacramental 
bread,  and  was  sometimes  made  of  goldo  Some  editors  prefer 
"  patterns,"  Lhe  reading  of  the  2d  folio. 

61.  His  mrtion*     His  for  its,  as  in  82  below.     See  on  iii.  2.  82 
above.     For  ether  allusions  to  the  "  music  of  the  spheres  "  in  S., 
see  A.  and  C.  v.  2.  84,  T.  N.  iii.  I.  121,  A.  Y.  L.  ii.  7.  6,  etc. 

62.  Cherubins.     The  singular  cherubin  is  found  in  Temp.  i.  2. 
152,  Macb.  i.  7.  22,  Oth.  iv.  2.  62,  and  L.  C.  319;  cherub  only  in 
Ham.  iv.  3.  50.     Cherubin  occurs  m  Spenser  and  other  poets  of  the 
time,  and  is  used  even  by  Dryden. 

63.  Such  harmony,  etc.     Besides  the  music  of  the  spheres,  which 


Scene  I]  Notes  203 

no  mortal  ear  ever  caught  a  note  of,  there  was  by  some  philosophers 
supposed  to  be  a  harmony  in  the  human  soul.  "  Touching  musical 
harmony,"  says  Hooker,  "  whether  by  instrument  or  by  voice,  it 
being  but  of  high  and  low  sounds  in  a  due  proportionable  disposition, 
such,  notwithstanding,  is  the  force  thereof,  and  so  pleasing  effects 
it  hath  in  that  very  part  of  man  which  is  most  divine,  that  some 
have  been  thereby  induced  to  think  that  the  soul  itself,  by  nature 
is,  or  hath  in  it,  harmony."  But,  though  this  harmony  is  within  us, 
"  this  muddy  vesture  of  decay,"  as  the  poet  tells  us,  "  doth  grossly 
close  it  in  "  so  that  we  cannot  hear  it. 

72.  Unhandled  colts.  Cf.  Ariel's  simile  of  the  "  unback'd  colts," 
Temp.  iv.  I.  176. 

77.  Mutual.  Common.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iv.  I.  122 :  "  mutual  cry," 
etc.  The  confounding  of  imitual  and  common  (as  in  "mutual 
friend,"  etc.)  is  a  familiar  blunder  nowadays. 

79.  The  poet.      Probably   Ovid,   who    tells    the    story   in    his 
Metamorphoses. 

80.  Orpheus.     Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  iii.  2.  78 :  — 

"  For  Orpheus'  lute  was  strung  with  poet's  sinews, 
Whose  golden  touch  could  soften  steel  and  stones,"  etc. ; 

and^».  VIII.  iii.  1.3:  — 

"  Orpheus  with  his  lute  made  trees, 
And  the  mountain  tops  that  freeze, 
Bow  themselves  when  he  did  sing." 

87.  Erebus.  Cf. /.  C.  ii.  I.  84:  "Not  Erebus  itself  were  dim 
enough,"  etc.  The  word,  though  sometimes  used  figuratively  for 
the  lower  world  in  general,  denotes  strictly  "  a  place  of  nether  dark- 
ness between  the  Earth  and  Hades." 

99.  Without  respect.  Absolutely,  without  regard  to  circum- 
stances. 

103.  Attended.  Attended  to,  listened  to  attentively.  Cf.  Sonn. 
102.  7 :  — 


204  Notes  [Act  v 

"  As  Philomel  in  summer's  front  doth  sing, 
And  stops  her  pipe  in  growth  of  riper  days; 
Not  that  the  summer  is  less  pleasant  now 
Than  when  her  mournful  hymns  did  hush  the  night, 
But  that  wild  music  burthens  every  bough, 
And  sweets  grown  common  lose  their  dear  delight." 

All  the  birds  mentioned  here  —  the  crow,  lark,  cuckoo,  etc.  —  are 
found  in  Italy. 

107.  By  season^  etc.  "  By  fitness  of  occasion  are  adapted  or 
qualified  to  obtain  their  just  appreciation,  and  to  show  their  true 
excellence." 

109.  Peace,  ho  !  In  J.  C.  i.  2.  I  we  find  "  Peace,  ho !  "  used,  as 
here,  to  silence  the  music. 

Endymion.  A  beautiful  shepherd  beloved  by  Diana.  Fletcher, 
in  the  Faithful  Shepherdess,  tells 

"  How  the  pale  Phoebe,  hunting  in  a  grove, 
First  saw  the  boy  Endymion,  from  whose  eyes 
She  took  eternal  fire  that  never  dies ; 
How  she  convey 'd  him  softly  in  a  sleep, 
His  temples  bound  with  poppy,  to  the  steep 
Head  of  old  Latmos,  where  she  stoops  each  night, 
Gilding  the  mountain  with  her  brother's  light, 
To  kiss  her  sweetest." 

The  fable  appears  in  many  forms  in  the  classic  writers,  and  has 
been  a  favourite  one  with  poets  ever  since. 

115.    Which  speed.     See  on  ii.  7.  4  above. 

121.  A  tucket  sounds.  This  stage  direction  is  found  in  the  1st 
folio.  A  tucket  (probably  from  the  Italian  toccata)  is  a  flourish  on 
a  trumpet.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  iv.  2.  35 :  "  Then  let  the  trumpet  sound 
The  tucket-sonance." 

127.  We  should  hold  day,  etc.  We  should  have  day  when  the 
Antipodes  do,  if  you,  Portia,  would  walk  abroad  at  night. 


Scene  I]  Notes  205 

129.  Let  me  give  light,  etc.  See  on  iii.  2.  91  above.  Puns  on 
\ight  and  dark  and  light  and  heavy  are  frequent  in  S. 

132.    God  sort  all!    God  dispose  all  things!     Cf.  Rich.  III.  ii. 

t.  ?6 :  — 

41  All  may  be  well ;  but  if  God  sort  it  so, 

'T  is  more  than  we  deserve  or  I  expect." 

136.   In  all  sense.     In  all  reason. 

141.  Breathing  courtesy.  Cf.  Macb.v.  3.  27:  "Mouth-honour, 
breath." 

146.  Poesy.  The  poesy  or  posy  (for  the  two  words  are  the  same) 
of  a  ring  was  a  motto  or  rhyme  inscribed  upon  its  inner  side. 
The  fashion  of  putting  such  "  posies  "  on  rings  prevailed  from  the 
middle  of  the  sixteenth  to  the  close  of  the  seventeenth  centuries. 
In  1624  a  little  book  was  published  with  the  quaint  title,  Love's 
Garland,  or  Posies  for  Rings,  Handkerchiefs,  and  Gloves ;  and  such 
pretty  tokens,  that  lovers  send  their  loves.  Cf.  Ham.  iii.  2.  1 62 : 
"  Is  this  a  prologue,  or  the  poesy  of  a  ring?"  These  are  the  only 
instances  in  which  S.  uses  the  word  in  this  sense. 

148.  Leave  me  not.  Do  not  part  with  me.  Leave  is  used  in  the 
same  sense  by  Portia  in  1 70  below. 

154.  Respective.  Considerate,  regardful.  Cf.  R.  and J.  iii.  1. 1282 
"respective  lenity."  See  also  K.John,  \.  I.  188. 

156.    On  's.     See  on  ii.  6.  67  above. 

1 60.  Scrubbed.  Stunted,  dwarfish;  generally  used  contempt- 
uously. 

175.   I  were  best.     See  on  ii.  8.  33  above. 

191.  The  ring.  For  the  repetition  in  this  and  the  following 
speech,  Herford  compares  K.  John,  iii.  I.  12-15  anc^  Rich.  III.  i.  3. 
292-294.  See  also  Edward  III.  ii.  I.  155-163,  where  nine  lines 
end  with  "  the  sun." 

197.  The  virtue  of  the  ring.  The  power  it  has;  the  right  to  me 
and  mine  of  which  it  is  the  pledge.  See  iii.  2.  171,  where  Portia 
gives  the  ring. 

199.    Contain.    Retain;  as  in  Sonn.  77.9:  "what  thy  memory 


206  Notes  [Act  v 

cannot  contain,"  etc.     Your  honour  refers  to  his  pledge  in  iii.  2. 

IBS- 

202.  Had  pleased  to  have  defended.     For  "  had  pleased  to   de- 
fend."    The  inaccuracy  is  sometimes  found  in  good  writers  of  our 
day,  and  has  sometimes  been  defended  by  grammarians. 

203.  Wanted.     As  to  have  wanted. 

204.  Urge.     Urge  you  to  give  it  to  him;   insist  upon  it.     Cere* 
mony  —  a  sacred  thing. 

208.    Civil  doctor.     Doctor  of  civil  law. 

218.  For,  by  these,  etc.  Cf.  R.  and  J.  iii.  5.  9:  "Night's  candles 
are  burnt  out";  Macb.  ii.  I.  5:  "There's  husbandry  in  heaven; 
Their  candles  are  all  out,"  etc. 

237.  Wealth.     Weal,  prosperity;   as  in  Ham.  iv.  4.  27:  "much 
wealth  and  peace." 

238.  Which.     That  is,  which  loan. 

239.  Miscarried.      Perished;    as   in   ii.  8.    29   and   iii.  2.  311 
above. 

241.  Advisedly.  Deliberately.  Cf.  advised  m  \.  I.  142  and  ii.  I. 
42  above. 

257.   Richly.     Richly  laden.     Cf.  "richly  left,"  i.  I.  161  above. 

260.   Living.     See  on  livings,  iii.  2.  156  above. 

262.  To  road.  To  harbour.  Cf.  "  ports,  and  piers,  and  roads,*' 
i.  I.  19  above. 

270.  Satisfied  of.  Satisfied  concerning ;  that  is,  you  wish  to 
know  more  about  them.  At  full  —  in  full,  fully. 

272.  And  charge  us,  etc.  "  In  the  Court  of  Queen's  Bench, 
when  a  complaint  is  made  against  a  person  for  'contempt,'  the 
practice  is  that  before  sentence  is  finally  pronounced  he  is  sent 
into  the  Crown  Office,  and  being  there  'charged  upon  interroga- 
tories '  he  is  made  to  swear  that  he  will  « answer  all  things  faith- 
fully' "  (Lord  Campbell's  Shakespeare's  Legal  Acquirements). 

Inter' gator ies.  This  contracted  form  was  common  in  S.'s  time. 
We  find  it  even  in  prose  in  A.  W.  iv.  3.  207,  as  printed  in  the 
early  eds.  The  full  form  occurs  in  K.John,  iii.  I.  147. 


APPENDIX 


COMMENTS  ON  SOME  OF  THE  CHARACTERS 

ANTONIO  AND  His  FRIENDS.  —  Antonio  gives  the  name  to  the 
play,  though  not  in  a  sense  its  hero,  because,  through  his  relations 
with  Bassanio  and  with  Shylock,  he  is  the  mainspring  of  the  action. 
He  is  one  of  Shakespeare's  most  beautiful  characters.  Professor 
Moulton  {Shakespeare  as  a  Dramatic  Artist}  calls  him  "  a  perfect 
character,"  his  intolerance,  interpreted  in  the  light  of  his  time, 
being  a  virtue  rather  than  a  fault.  But  it1  seems  to  me  that  the 
critic  misapprehends  the  type  of  Antonio's  perfection.  He  says 
that  "  Roman  honour "  is  the  idea  which  the  Merchant's  friends 
are  accustomed  to  associate  with  him;  and  he  adds:  "Of  all  the 
national  types  of  character  the  Roman  is  the  most  self-sufficient, 
alike  incorruptible  by  temptation  and  independent  of  the  softer 
influences  of  life."  Antonio  is  incorruptible,  the  very  soul  of 
honour,  and  it  is  to  this  that  Bassanio  refers  in  ascribing  to  him  the 
"  ancient  Roman  honour."  He  would  not  have  added  the  Roman 
sternness  and  impassivity,  the  lack  of  sensibility  to  the  softer  in- 
fluences of  life. 

Mistaking  Antonio  in  this  way,  Professor  Moulton  naturally  does 
injustice  to  the  group  of  friends  with  whom  we  find  him  associated 
in  the  opening  scene.  Here,  he  says,  "  we  see  the  dignified  mer- 
chant-prince suffering  under  the  infliction  of  frivolous  visitors,  to 
which  his  friendship  with  the  young  nobleman  exposes  him."  The 
German  Gervinus  in  like  manner  regards  these  friends,  Bassanio 
included,  as  mere  parasites;  and  Heine  terms  them  "only  so- 
called  friends,  'or,  if  you  please,  only  half  or  three-quarters  friends," 
having  "  due  regard  to  their  own  ease,"  in  their  apparent  devotion 
to  "  the  excellent  merchant  who  gave  them  such  fine  dinners." 

207 


I 

208  Appendix 

There  may  be  nothing  in  the  first  scene  which  makes  it  abso. 
lately  certain  that  Antonio's  friends  are  not  selfish  "summer 
friends  "  (such  as  the  dramatist  introduces  in  Timon  of  Athens} ; 
but  elsewhere  in  the  play  the  question  is  settled  past  a  doubt.  Their 
love  for  him  endures  the  crucial  test  of  adversity.  When  news  of  the 
loss  of  his  ships  begins  to  come  (ii.  8)  Salanio  says  to  Salarino :  — 

"  You  were  best  to  tell  Antonio  what  you  hear ; 
Yet  do  not  suddenly,  for  it  may  grieve  him ;  " 

and  his  friend  replies :  "  A  kinder  gentleman  treads  not  the  earth.'* 
Then  follows  that  exquisite  passage  in  which  the  parting  of  Antonio 
and  Bassanio  is  described;  and  Salanio  adds:  — 

"  I  think  he  only  loves  the  world  for  him. 
I  pray  thee,  let  us  go  and  find  him  out, 
And  quicken  his  embraced  heaviness 
With  some  delight  or  other." 

Later  on  (Hi.  i),  when  more  bad  news  comes  and  Antonio  is 
threatened  with  bankruptcy,  the  devotion  of  these  friends  is  none 
the  less  to  be  noted — and,  as  in  the  former  instance,  when  they 
are  by  themselves,  and  can  have  no  motive  for  playing  a  false  part. 
Salanio  speaks  of  the  Merchant  as  "  the  good  Antonio  —  O  that  I 
had  a  title  good  enough  to  keep  his  name  company !  "  Gratiano 
also  calls  him  "  the  good  Antonio,"  and  in  the  trial  scene  he  cannot 
find  language  intense  enough  to  express  his  grief  and  wrath  on 
account  of  the  Jew's  merciless  spite  against  Antonio,  and  his  exult- 
ant irony  when  the  Daniel  come  to  judgment  has  decided  in  favour 
of  the  Merchant.  Can  these  be  parasitical  friends? 

Antonio  has  been  often  called  a  "  melancholy  "  man,  but  he  is 
not  such  by  nature,  though  grave  and  earnest.  At  the  opening  of 
the  play  the  shadow  of  coming  misfortune  already  hangs  over  him. 
He  is  sad,  he  knows' not  why,  but  it  is  the  poet's  fondness  for  pre- 
sentiments that  has  made  him  so.  It  surprises  his  friends,  which, 
no  less  than  his  own  comments  upon  it,  indicates  that  it  is  not  his 
ordinary  mood.  We  are  sure  that  he  must  be  usually  genial,  or  he 


Appendix  209 

could  not  attract  these  lively  young  men,  who,  as  we  have  seen,  are 
no  parasites  ;  and  we  infer  from  their  talk  that  he  can  even  be 
merry  at  times,  though  probably  in  no  boisterous  way. 

In  but  one  instance  (see  note  on  iv.  I.  274)  does  he  indulge  in  a 
pun,  and  it  is  the  most  pathetic  pun  in  all  Shakespeare.  It  is  in 
what  he  supposes  is  to  be  his  last  speech  before  he  dies:  — 

"  Repent  not  you  that  you  shall  lose  your  friend, 
And  he  repents  not  that  he  pays  your  debt ; 
For  if  the  Jew  do  cut  but  deep  enough, 
I  '11  pay  it  instantly  with  all  my  heart" 

He  puns  that  never  punned  before,  out  of  pure  love  and  pity  for 
his  friend,  whom  he  would  fain  keep  from  grieving  at  his  death. 
And  this  is  the  man  who  has  been  called  "  insensible  to  the  softer 
influences  of  life  !  " 

In  the  last  scene  of  the  play,  where  we  see  Antonio  relieved  from 
the  anxiety  of  the  past  two  or  three  months,  he  has  little  to  say,  but 
that  little  is  in  the  same  unselfish  vein.  He  is  troubled  at  the 
apparent  misunderstanding  about  the  rings,  and  says,  •'  I  am  the 
unhappy  subject  of  these  quarrels  ";  and  he  tries  to  make  peace  by 
offering  to  become  surety  for  Bassanio's  good  faith  in  the  future. 

This  man,  as  I  have  said,  is  a  favourite  with  Shakespeare,  but 
Shakespeare  is  never  afraid  to  show  the  faults  and  weaknesses  of 
his  best  characters.  He  did  not  regard  Antonio's  treatment  of  the 
Jew  as  a  "virtue,"  although  that  was  the  medieval  view  of  it. 
Here,  as  everywhere,  he  holds  the  mirror  up  to  nature,  letting  it 
reflect  the  age  as  it  was.  If  we  consider  what  was  then  the  general 
feeling  towards  the  Jews,  and  with  what  bitter  contempt  and  detes- 
tation they  were  regarded,  even  by  the  best  Christians,  how  they 
were  abused,  robbed,  and  persecuted,  we  cannot  wonder  at  the 
repugnance  and  scorn  which  the  good  Antonio  manifests  towards 
Shylock  —  that  he  calls  him  "dog,"  and  spits  upon  him.  When 
the  Jew  reminds  him  of  these  "  courtesies  "  at  the  time  when  he  is 
asking  the  loan,  Antonio  replies :  — 

MER.   OF  YEN.  —  14 


2IO  Appendix 


"  I  am  as  like  to  call  thee  so  again, 
To  spet  on  thee  again,  to  spurn  thee  too. 
If  thou  wilt  lend  this  money,  lend  it  not 
As  to  thy  friends  ;  for  when  did  friendship  take 
A  breed  of  barren  metal  of  his  friend  ? 
But  lend  it  rather  to  thine  enemy, 
Who  if  he  break,  thou  mayst  with  better  face 
Exact  the  penalty." 

Shakespeare  meant  that  Antonio  should  remember  that  speech  — 
and  that  we  should  remember  it  —  when  later  he  is  fain  to  beg 
mercy  of  the  "dog"  he  has  despised  and  defied,  and  gets  for 
answer :  — 

"  Thou  call'dst  me  dog  before  thou  hadst  a  cause; 
But,  since  I  am  a  dog,  beware  my  fangs." 

SHYLOCK.  — There  are  those  who  believe  that  Shakespeare  shared 
the  prejudice  of  his  time  against  the  Jew;  but  to  me  nothing  can 
be  clearer  than  that  he  has  indirectly  —  and  the  more  effectively 
because  indirectly — exposed  and  reproved  its  injustice.  Here,  as 
so  often  in  his  works,  he  proves  himself  far  in  advance  of  his  age. 
Shylock  is  thwarted  and  punished,  as  he  deserved  to  be;  but  he 
shows  his  Christian  adversaries  that  they  have  taught  him  the  lesson 
of  revenge ;  that  if  the  Jewish  maxim  be  "  an  eye  for  an  eye,  and  a 
tooth  for  a  tooth,"  it  has  been  fully  indorsed  and  adopted  by  the 
Christian  —  an  iron  rule  in  place  of  his  professed  golden  one.  "  If 
you  wrong  us,"  he  reasons,  "  shall  we  not  revenge?  If  we  are  like 
you  in  the  rest,  we  will  resemble  you  in  that.  If  a  Jew  wrong  a 
Christian,  what  is  his  humility?  Revenge.  If  a  Christian  wrong  a 
Jew,  what  should  his  sufferance  be,  by  Christian  example?  Why, 
revenge.  The  villany  you  teach  me,  I  will  execute;  and  it  shall  go 
hard  but  I  will  better  the  instruction." 

There  is  no  possible  answer  to  this,  and  it  is  a  most  significant 
fact  that  Shakespeare  makes  his  Christians  attempt  none.  Shylock 
is  left  master  of  the  field;  and  this  is  the  method  the  poet  chooses 


Appendix  21 1 

for  reading  a  high  moral  lesson  to  the  men  of  his  time.  Had  he 
ventured  to  do  it  more  openly  and  directly,  the  play  would  have 
been  hooted  from  the  stage. 

It  is  safe,  I  think,  to  say  that  a  decided  majority  of  the  commen- 
tators and  critics  are  now  agreed  that  Shakespeare's  sympathies  are 
with  Shylock  as  the  representative  of  a  wronged  and  persecuted 
race;  and  some  of  those  on  the  other  side  appear  to  be  there  solely 
because,  as  they  say,  Shakespeare  was  a  dramatist  and  not  a  moral 
teacher;  or,  as  one  of  them  expresses  it,  "he  was  too  thoroughly 
an  artist  to  write  a  play  with  a  moral  purpose."  Another  says  that, 
if  he  had  intended  to  enforce  the  lesson  of  toleration  and  charity 
with  regard  to  the  Jews,  he  would  not  have  selected  "  a  rich  mer- 
chant plotting  the  murder  of  a  Christian  rival  by  means  of  a  fraudu- 
lent contract ";  nor  would  he  have  made  Shylock  argue  that  "  Jews 
had  a  right  to  turn  devils  as  freely  as  Christians  had." 

The  answer  to  all  this  is  easy  and  simple.  Shakespeare  did  not 
write  the  play  to  enforce  the  moral  lesson.  His  purpose  was  to 
dramatize  a  story,  or  combination  of  stories,  which  he  found  ready 
to  his  hand,  or  which  may  have  been  suggested  to  him  by  the 
manager  of  a  theatre.  But  in  depicting  the  Jew  in  the  story  he 
saw  him  and  his  race  as  they  were,  not  as  they  appeared  to  the 
Christians  of  his  time.  He  saw  all  that  was  bad  in  Shylock,  but  he 
saw  as  well  that  the  evil  in  him  was  mainly  due  to  the  treatment 
he  had  received  at  the  hands  of  the  Christians.  He  was  too  great 
a  master  of  his  art  to  preach  his  moral;  and  he  knew  that  there 
was  no  necessity  for  doing  it.  He  simply  sets  the  Jew  himself 
before  us  as  he  is,  nothing  extenuating  but  setting  down  naught  in 
malice,  and  the  man  gains  oiir  sympathy  at  once  and  inevitably. 
Heine  says :  "  When  I  saw  this  play  at  Drury  Lane,  there  stood 
(behind  me  in  the  box  a  pale,  fair  Briton  who,  at  the  end  of  the 
fourth  act,  fell  to  weeping  passionately,  exclaiming  several  times, 
'The  poor  man  is  wronged ! '  It  was  a  face  of  the  noblest  Grecian 
type,  and  the  eyes  were  large  and  black.  I  have  never  been  able 
to  forget  those  large  and  black  eyes  that  wept  for  S.hylock."  We 


212  Appendix 

may  not  weep  with  the  fair  English  girl,  but  we  cannot  help  sharing 
her  pity  and  sympathy  for  Shylock;  and  in  this  result  the  genius 
of  the  poet,  or,  as  Heine  expresses  it,  "  the  genius  of  humanity  that 
reigned  in  him,"  is  triumphant  over  vulgar  prejudice  and  fanaticism. 
It  would  take  too  much  space  to  explain  in  detail  how  Shake- 
speare accomplishes  this  in  his  delineation  of  the  Jew :  by  making 
him  one  of  his  most  intellectual  characters;  by  giving  him  a  gener- 
ous enthusiasm  for  his  ancient  race,  religion,  and  law;  and  by  little 
touches  showing  that  he  is  not  destitute  of  tenderness,  or  at  least 
of  reminiscences  of  tenderness,  as  when  he  mourns  the  loss  of  the 
ring  that  Leah  gave  him  when  he  was  a  bachelor.  There  was  one 
soft  spot  in  his  heart,  though  the  rest  might  be  as  hard  as  Gratiano 
intimated  when  he  exclaimed,  while  Shylock  was  whetting  his  knife 
in  the  trial  scene :  — 

"  Not  on  thy  sole,  but  on  thy  soul,  harsh  Jew, 
Thou  mak'st  thy  knife  keen." 

If  the  reader  would  understand  better  that  Shylock  is  what  he  is 
because  Shakespeare  was  what  we  know  him  to  be,  —  a  poet  not  for 
an  age,  but  for  all  time,  —  let  him  read  Mario we'sy<?w  of  Malta,  and 
compare  the  hero  with  Shylock.  The  latter,  with  all  his  avarice 
and  cruelty,  is  a  man ;  the  former  is  an  impossible  monster,  who . 
boasts  that  he  "walks  abroad  o'  nights,  and  kills  sick  persons 
groaning  under  walls  " ;  poisons  wells,  and  studies  physic  that  he 
may  keep  the  sextons  busy  "  with  digging  graves  and  ringing  dead 
men's  knells";  by  his  extortions  fills  jails  with  bankrupts,  and  hos- 
pitals with  orphans;  chuckles  when  his  victims  hang  themselves  in 
their  despair;  and  finally  dies  unrepentant  and  defiant,  with  curses 
on  his  lips  against  these  enemies  and  infidels.  But  this  is  the  ideal 
Jew  of  Marlowe's  and  Shakespeare's  generation ! 

And  Martin  Luther  was  no  less  prejudiced  and  intolerant.  He 
wrote  thus :  "  Know,  thou  dear  Christian,  that,  next  to  the  devil, 
thou  canst  have  no  bitterer,  fiercer  foe  than  a  genuine  Jew,  one 
who  is  a  Jew  in  earnest.  The  true  counsel  I  give  thee  is  that  fire 


Appendix  213 

be  put  to  their  synagogues,  and  that,  over  what  will  not  burn  up, 
the  earth  be  heaped  and  piled,  so  that  no  stone  or  trace  of  them  be 
seen  forevermore." * 

PORTIA.  —  About  Portia  there  has  been,  and  can  be,  but  little 
room  for  critics  to  differ  and  dispute.  They  are  few  who  do  not 
cordially  agree  with  Mrs.  Kemble  that  she  is  "  the  ideal  of  the  per- 
fect woman  "  —  that  she  realizes  Wordsworth's  description  of  such  — 

"  A  perfect  woman,  nobly  planned 

To  warn,  to  comfort,  and  command," 
and  yet  — 

41 A  creature  not  too  bright  or  good 
For  human  nature's  daily  food ; 
For  transient  sorrows,  simple  wiles, 
Praise,  blame,  love,  kisses,  tears,  and  smiles." 

She  is,  in  the  words  of  the  same  sympathetic  critic,  "  the  wise,  witty 
woman,  loving  with  all  her  soul  and  submitting  with  all  her  heart 
to  a  man  whom  everybody  but  herself  (who  was  the  best  judge) 
would  have  judged  her  inferior;  the  laughter-loving,  light-hearted, 
true-hearted,  deep-hearted  woman,  full  of  keen  perception,  of 
active  efficiency,  of  wisdom  prompted  by  love,  of  tenderest  unselfish- 
ness, of  generous  magnanimity;  noble,  simple,  humble,  pure;  true, 
dutiful,  religious,  and  full  of  fun;  delightful  above  all  others,  the 
woman  of  women." 

I  quote  this  because,  in  brief  compass,  it  brings  out  all  the 
marked  features  of  the  character.  What  can  we  add  to  it  ?  What 
can  we  take  away?2 

As  I  have  hinted,  a  small  minority  of  the  critics  have  their  dis- 
paraging comments  on  Portia.  Hazlitt  says  that  she  is  "  not  a 
great  favourite  "  with  him;  she  "  has  a  certain  degree  of  affectation 
and  pedantry  about  her."  Mr.  C.  A.  Brown  cannot  go  so  far  as 

1  From  Furness's  "  New  Variorum  "  edition  of  the  play,  p.  453. 

2  If  anything,  the  intimation  that  Bassanio  was  not  entirely  worthy  of 
Portia ;  but,  as  Mrs.  Kemble  admits,  Portia  was  the  best  judge  of  that. 


214  Appendix 

Hazlitt  does,  but  thinks  she  is  not  quite  so  amiable  as  Mrs.  Jameson 
makes  her  out;  he  calls  her  "a  feudal  lady,"  who  seems  to  "re- 
joice in  laying  down  the  law,  and  feels  a  triumphant  delight  while 
she  detains  the  court  in  suspense."  Hudson  considers  that  she  is 
at  times  "  too  self-conscious,"  though  he  sees  "  nothing  like  ostenta-  < 
tion  or  conceit  of  intellect "  in  her. 

These  criticisms  are  all  in  the  same  vein,  and  Hazlitt's,  being  the 
most  severe,  may  be  taken  as  including  the  rest;  but  Hazlitt, 
though  an  acute  critic,  had  his  moods  and  prejudices,  and  he  doubt- 
less wrote  what  I  have  quoted  when  he  was  not  in  the  humour  for 
appreciating  a  character  like  Portia.  Certainly  we  can  find  noth- 
ing of  pedantry  or  affectation  in  her,  even  when  she  is  playing  the 
doctor's  part  at  the  trial.  An  inferior  woman,  "  coached  "  for  the 
occasion  by  the  learned  Bellario,  would  have  been  likely  to  overdo 
the  part  in  the  endeavour  to  carry  it  out  successfully  and  effectively. 
She  would  have  behaved  more  like  a  young  lawyer  in  all  the  pride 
of  his  first  case  in  court,  who  felt  that  the  aid  and  advice  of  his 
experienced  senior  had  insured  his  success.  But  Portia  maintains 
throughout  the  quiet  dignity  of  a  truly  great  lawyer,  who  is  tempted 
to  no  affectation  of  learning,  no  display  of  legal  acumen,  but  states 
his  case  clearly,  simply,  and  briefly.  The  only  eloquent  passage  in 
her  management  of  the  cause  —  using  the  word  in  its  ordinary 
sense  —  is  in  the  famous  plea  for  mercy,  which  is  surely  not  a  dis- 
play of  rhetoric,  but  a  natural  outburst  from  the  heart.  In  short, 
her  bearing  from  first  to  last  is  as  modest  as  it  is  dignified. 

Elsewhere  in  the  play  her  modest  opinion  of  herself  is  repeatedly 
illustrated.  She  speaks  of  the  suitors  who  come  to  hazard  for  her 
"worthless  self";  and  in  that  matchless  speech  after  Bassanio  has 
chosen  the  right  casket,  she  disclaims  ambition  for  herself,  but 

adds : — 

"  Yet  for  you 

I  would  be  trebled  twenty  times  myself, 

A  thousand  times  more  fair,  ten  thousand  times  more  rich, 

That  only  to  stand  high  in  your  account, 

I  might  in  virtues,  beauties,  livings,  friends, 


Appendix  215 


Exceed  account.    But  the  full  sum  of  me 
Is  sum  of  nothing,  which,  to  term  in  gross, 
Is  an  unlesson'd  girl,  unschool'd,  unpractis'd: 
Happy  in  this,  she  is  not  yet  so  old 
But  she  may  learn  ;  happier  than  this, 
She  is  not  bred  so  dull  but  she  can  learn; 
Happiest  of  all  in  that  her  gentle  spirit 
Commits  itself  to  yours  to  be  directed, 
As  from  her  lord,  her  governor,  her  king. 
Myself  and  what  is  mine  to  you  and  yours 
Is  now  converted.     But  now  I  was  the  lord 
Of  this  fair  mansion,  master  of  my  servants, 
Queen  o'er  myself;  and  even  now,  but  now, 
This  house,  these  servants,  and  this  same  myself 
Are  yours,  my  lord.     I  give  them  with  this  ring." 

is  there  any  "  pedantry  "  in  that  ?  Is  this  noble  heiress,  who  thus 
frankly  gives  herself  and  all  that  is  hers  to  the  lover  who  has  won 
her,  affected  and  vain  ?  The  utmost  that  she  claims  for  herself  is 
that  she  is  not  so  dull  but  she  can  learn —  which  is  far  enough  from 
the  pride  of  pedantry.  Mr.  Grant  White  was  not  fond  of  learned 
women,  —  or,  at  least,  of  a  certain  type  of  such  women,  —  but  even 
he  does  no  injustice  to  Portia.  He  sums  up  her  character  in  -a 
single  sentence  as  "  the  matchless  impersonation  of  that  rare 
woman  who  is  gifted  even  more  in  intellect Jlian_J_nJoyeliness,  and 
who  yet  stops  gracefully  short  of  the  offence  of  intellectuality." 
The  word  intellectuality,  as  he  uses  it,  seems  to  bear  somewhat  the 
same  relation  to  intellect  that  sentimentality  does  to  sentiment,  sug- 
gesting a  self-consciousness  or  self-conceit  which  is  an  essential  ele- 
ment in  pedantry.  It  carries  a  certain  degree  of  reproach  with  it; 
but  White  is  unquestionably  right  in  acknowledging  that,  with  all 
her  high  intellectual  endowments,  Portia  is  nowise  liable  to  the 
charge  of  "intellectuality." 

The  lighter  and  more  playful  side  of  Portia's  character  is  well 
displayed  in  the  very  first  scene  in  which  she  appears.  Her  descrip- 
tions of  the  suitors  are  as  witty  as  they  are  graphic,  showing  alike . 


2 1 6  Appendix 

her  insight  into  character  and  her  love  of  fun.  How  completely 
the  men  are  photographed  in  a  sentence  or  two !  The  Neapolitan 
prince  "  doth  nothing  but  talk  of  his  horse."  But  a  "  horsey  "  man 
is  not  necessarily  a  fool,  like  this  fellow  who  plumes  himself  on 
being  able  to  shoe  his  horse.  He  is  a  prince,  but  his  highest  ambi 
tion  is  to  be  his  own  blacksmith.  Do  we  need  to  know  anything 
more  about  him  ?  What  a  husband  for  the  peerless  Portia  if  the 
lottery  of  the  caskets  had  given  her  to  him  !  But,  as  Nerissa  philo- 
sophically remarks,  "holy  men  at  their  death  have  good  inspira- 
tions," and  her  father's  device  for  getting  her  a  mate  is  likely  to  be 
governed  by  a  wise  Providence.  She  will  escape  this  unprincely 
prince;  and  the  morose  and  self-conceited  County  Palatine,  like  a 
death's  head  with  a  bone  in  his  mouth;  and  the  volatile  French 
lord,  who  would  be  twenty  husbands  in  one,  and  that  one  worth- 
less; and  the  young  baron  of  England,  who  has  travelled  in  many 
lands  and  brought  home  nothing  but  his  motley  apparel  and  his 
mcngrel  behaviour;  and  the  cowardly  Scotchman,  who  lacks  the 
spirit  to  return  a  blow,  but  swears  he  will  do  it  some  day;  and  the 
guzzling  German,  who  at  his  best  is  worse  than  a  man,  and  at  his 
worst  is  little  better  than  a  beast.  Luckily  this  parcel  of  wooers 
will  trouble  the  lady  with  no  more  suit,  unless  she  may  be  won 
otherwise  than  by  the  chance  of  the  caskets;  and  we  may  be  sure 
that  she  is  sincere  in  wishing  them  a  fair  departure. 

But,  as  Mrs.  Jameson  remarks,  "  all  the  finest  parts  of  Portia's 
character  are  brought  to  bear  in  the  trial  scene";  and  here  I 
cannot  do  better  than  to  go  on  with  her  admirable  comments  on 
the  scene,  instead  of  attempting  to  make  any  of  my  own :  — 

"There  she  shines  forth,  all  her  divine  self.  Her  intellectual 
powers,  her  elevated  sense  of  religion,  her  high  honourable  princi- 
ples, her  best  feelings  as  a  woman,  are  all  displayed.  She  maintains 
at  first  a  calm  self-command,  as  one  sure  of  carrying  her  point  in 
the  end;  yet  the  painful  heart-thrilling  uncertainty  in  which  she 
keeps  the  whole  court  until  suspense  verges  upon  agony,  is  not  con- 
trived for  effect  merely;  it  is  necessary  and  inevitable.  . . .  Thus  all 


Appendix  217 

the  speeches  addressed  to  Shylock  in  the  first  instance  are  either 
direct  or  indirect  experiments  on  his  temper  and  feelings.  She 
must  be  understood  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  as  examining, 
with  intense  anxiety,  the  effect  of  her  own  words  on  his  mind  and 
countenance;  as  watching  for  that  relenting  spirit  which  she  hopes 
to  awaken  either  by  reason  or  persuasion.  She  begins  by  an  appeal 
to  his  mercy,  in  that  matchless  piece  of  eloquence  which,  with  an 
irresistible  and  solemn  pathos,  falls  upon  the  heart  like  « gentle  dew 
from  heaven ' :  — but  in  vain;  for  that  blessed  dew  drops  not  more 
fruitless  and  unfelt  on  the  parched  sand  of  the  desert,  than  do  these 
heavenly  words  upon  the  ear  of  Shylock.  She  next  attacks  his 
avarice :  — 

" '  Shylock,  there's  thrice  thy  money  offered  thee !  * 

Then  she  appeals,  in  the  same  breath,  both  to  his  avarice  and  his 

'"Be  merciful ! 
Take  thrice  thy  money.    Bid  me  tear  the  bond.' 

All  that  she  says  afterwards  —  her  strong  expressions,  which  are 
calculated  to  strike  a  shuddering  horror  through  the  nerves,  the 
reflections  she  interposes,  her  delays  and  circumlocution  to  give 
time  for  any  latent  feeling  of  commiseration  to  display  itself,  —  all, 
all  are  premeditated,  and  tend  in  the  same  manner  to  the  object 
she  has  in  view.1 

"  So  unwilling  is  her  sanguine  and  generous  spirit  to  resign  all 
hope,  or  to  believe  that  humanity  is  absolutely  extinct  in  the  bosom 
of  the  Jew,  that  she  calls  on  Antonio,  as  a  last  resource,  to  speak 
for  himself.  His  gentle,  yet  manly  resignation,  the  deep  pathos  of 
his  farewell,  and  the  affectionate  allusion  to  herself  in  his  last  address 
to  Bassanio :  — 

" '  Commend  me  to  your  honourable  wife ; 
Say  how  I  lov'd  you,  speak  me  fair  in  death/  etc.— 

1  This  is  a  sufficient  answer  to  Mr.  C.  A.  Brown's  criticism,  that  she 
delights  in  keeping  the  court  in  suspense. 


2 1 8  Appendix 

are  well  calculated  to  swell  that  emotion  which  through  the  whole 
scene  must  have  been  labouring  suppressed  within  her  heart. 

"  At  length  the  crisis  arrives,  for  patience  and  womanhood  can 
endure  no  longer;  and  when  Shylock,  carrying  his  savage  bent '  to  the 
last  hour  of  act,'  springs  on  his  victim — *  A  sentence  !  come,  prepare  ! ' 
then  the  smothered  scorn,  indignation,  and  disgust  burst  forth  with 
an  impetuosity  which  interferes  with  the  judicial  solemnity  she  had' 
at  first  affected,  particularly  in  the  speech  — 

'"Therefore,  prepare  thee  to  cut  off  the  flesh,'  etc. 

But  she  afterwards  recovers  her  propriety,  and  triumphs  with  a 
cooler  scorn  and  a  more  self-possessed  exultation. 

"  It  is  clear  that,  to  feel  the  full  force  and  dramatic  beauty  of  this 
marvellous  scene,  we  must  go  along  with  Portia  as  well  as  with 
Shylock  ;  we  must  understand  her  concealed  purpose,  keep  in  mind 
her  noble  motives,  and  pursue  in  our  fancy  the  undercurrent  of 
feeling  working  in  her  mind  throughout.  The  terror  and  the  power 
of  Shylock's  character,  his  deadly  and  inexorable  malice,  would  be 
too  oppressive,  the  pain  and  pity  too  intolerable,  and  the  horror  of 
the  possible  issue  too  overwhelming,  but  for  the  intellectual  relief 
afforded  by  this  double  source  of  interest  and  contemplation." 

BASSANIO.  —  Bassanio  has  been  misrepresented  and  underrated 
by  some  of  the  critics,  and  the  reason  is  not  far  to  seek.  In  a  play, 
as  in  real  life,  a  person  may  have  a  part  not  at  all  proportionate  to 
his  abilities,  and  may  consequently  fail  to  be  appreciated  as  he 
deserves.  In  the  present  play  Portia  has  great  and  varied  oppor- 
tunities ;  hence  she  can  display  her  great  and  varied  endowments. 
Bassanio,  on  the  other  hand,  has  nothing  to  do  except  to  marry 
Portia,  who  was  practically  won  before  the  play  begins.  The 
prominent  part  she  has  in'  the  action,  and  the  power  and  grace 
with  which  she  discharges  it,  throw  her  husband  completely  into 
the  shade.  As  Nerissa  tells  us,  he  is  "  a  scholar  and  a  soldier  " 
(we  have  the  ideal  man  of  the  time  in  that  simple  statement),  but 
he  has  no  opportunity  to  prove  himself  either  soldier  or  scholar. 


Appendix  219 

To  a  careless  observer  he  seems  to  be,  as  he  has  often  been  called, 
a  fortune-hunter  ;  but  Shakespeare  is  quick  to  foresee  any  possible 
injustice  we  may  do  his  favourite  characters  and  to  guard  them  well 
against  it,  and  he  has  done  so  in  this  instance.  When  Bassanio 
tells  Antonio  about  Portia,  note  how  her  fortune  is  subordinated  to 
her  beauty  and  her  character :  — 

"  In  Belmont  is  a  lady  richly  left  ; 
And  she  is  fair  and,  fairer  than  that  word, 
Of  wondrous  virtues." 

He  has  met  her,  moreover,  and,  as  we  learn  in  the  next  scene, 
before  her  father's  death  ;  and,  like  Ferdinand  and  Miranda  in 
The  Tempest,  at  the  first  sight  they  "  changed  eyes."  To  remove 
any  possible  doubt  that  the  budding  love  was  mutual,  and  that 
Bassanio  had  not  misapprehended  the  "  fair  speechless  messages  " 
from  the  lady's  eyes,  the  dramatist  gives  us  that  exquisite  bit  of 
dialogue  (i.  2.  112  fol.)  in  which  the  sly  Nerissa,  whose  feminine 
instinct  has,  perhaps,  been  quicker  to  discern  the  true  state  of  the 
case  than  the  lovers  themselves,  entraps  her  mistress  into  an  in- 
voluntary betrayal  of  her  interest  in  the  young  man :  — 

"Nerissa.  Do  you  not  remember,  lady,  in  your  father's  time, 
a  Venetian,  a  scholar  and  a  soldier,  that  came  hither  in  company 
of  the  Marquis  of  Montferrat  ? 

Portia.     Yes,  yes,  it  was  Bassanio;  as  I  think,  so  was  he  called." 

What  significance  in  the  duplication  of  thatjj/^/  It  shows  that 
this  speech  is  Portia's  impulsive  expression  of  what  till  then  had 
been  shut  up  in  her  heart.  It  comes  out  before  she  is  aware,  and 
with  quick  maidenly  shyness  she  withdraws  again  into  herself, 
covering  the  retreat  by  that  "  as  I  think,  so  was  he  called,"  —  "I 
believe  that  was-  the  man's  name !  "  And  yet,  what  critic  has 
noticed  the  delicate  touch,  or  what  actress  ever  rightly  rendered  it  ? 

We  see  later  (iii.  2.  248  fol.)  how  frankly  Bassanio,  when  .he  did 
impart  his  love  to  Portia,  told  her  that  all  the  wealth  he  had  ran  in 
his  veins.  Was  that  done  like  a  fortune-hunter  ? 


22O  Appendix 

But  some  may  say  that,  however  this  may  be,  Bassanio  is  in  no 
respect  a  worthy  mate  for  Portia.  They  will  class  him  with  Proteus 
and  Claudio  (him  of  Much  Ado)  and  Bertram  and  others,  to  whom 
Shakespeare  gives  wives  much  too  good  for  them.  For  myself,  I 
cannot  put  Bassanio  in  this  ignoble  company.  If,  as  we  have  seen, 
he  is  the  mere  "walking  gentleman"  of  the  stage,  he  is  a  gentle- 
man in  the  best  sense  of  the  term,  a  man  after  Shakespeare's  own 
heart,  and  not  unworthy  of  the  friendship  of  Antonio  and  the  love 
of  Portia.  In  the  matter  of  the  caskets,  as  Dowden  well  says, 
"  Bassanio  is  ennobled  in  our  eyes  by  his  choice  ;  for  the  gold, 
silver,  and  lead,  with  their  several  inscriptions,  are  a  test  of  true 
lovers."  He  "  does  not  come  as  a  needy  adventurer  to  choose  the 
golden  casket,  or  to  '  gain  '  or  '  get '  anything,  but,  in  the  true  spirit 
of  self-abandoning  love,  to  '  give,'  not  to  '  get,'  '  and  hazard  all  he 
hath ';  and,  having  dared  to  give  all,  he  gains  all."  And  the 
manner  in  which  he  receives  this  great  good  gift  of  Fortune  is 
characteristic.  It  is  not  the  manner  of  the  Jason  who  has  won 
the  golden  fleece  and  exults  in  the  prize.  He  can  scarce  believe 
that  he  has  gained  the  lady,  and  stands  bewildered,  doubtful 
whether  it  can  be  true,  until  confirmed,  signed,  ratified  by  her. 
When  his  friends  from  Venice  arrive  a  little  later,  what  delicacy  in 
his  greeting ! 

"  Lorenzo  and  Salerio,  welcome  hither ; 

If  that  the  youth  of  my  new  interest  here 

Have  power  to  bid  you  welcome.    By  your  leave, 

I  bid  my  very  friends  and  countrymen, 

Sweet  Portia,  welcome." 

The  lady  had  already  recognized  him  as  "  her  lord,  her  governor, 
her  king,"  and  had  said :  — 

"  Myself  and  what  is  mine  to  you  and  yours 
Is  now  converted." 

And  how  easily  and  confidently  the  man  who  had  an  eye  to  her 
fortune  rather  than  to  herself  would  have  entered  into  possession 


Appendix  221 


on  such  a  warrant!  Bassanio,  overwhelmed  with  the  gift  of 
herself,  cannot  yet  give  a  thought  to  his  rights  in  what  is  hers. 
Though  lord  of  the  fair  mansion,  the  first  claim  upon  his  hospitality 
takes  him  by  surprise,  and  he  appeals  to  Portia  for  authority  to 
exercise  his  newly  acquired  rights  and  privileges. 

Several  commentators  agree  in  thinking  that  Portia  selected  the 
Song  in  this  scene  in  order  to  give  Bassanio  a  clue  to  the  right 
casket.  One  of  them  remarks  :  "  Its  general  purport  may  be  stated 
to  be  :  *  Do  not  choose  by  the  eye  —  by  the  glittering  outside  — 
for  it  is  the  source  of  all  delusion.'  Hence  Portia,  after  observing 
with  the  greatest  care  all  the  formalities  of  her  father's  will,  breaks 
it  just  at  the  point  of  its  conflict  with  her  subjective  right  "  ;  that  is, 
her  right  to  choose  her  own  husband.  The  critic  believes  that  she 
is  fully  justified  in  doing  this.  But  she  has  declared  in  the  first 
speech  of  this  very  scene  that  she  will  not  do  it :  — 

11 1  could  teach  you 

How  to  choose  right,  but  then  I  am  forsworn ; 
So  will  I  never  be.     So  may  you  miss  me; 
But  if  you  do,  you'll  make  me  wish  a  sin, 
That  I  had  been  forsworn." 

Earlier  in  the  play  (i.  2.  106)  she  has  said :  "  If  I  live  to  be  as  old 
as  Sibylla,  I  will  die  as  chaste  as  Diana,  unless  I  be  obtained  by  the 
manner  of  my  father's  will."  In  both  cases  we  cannot  doubt  that 
she  means  what  she  says. 

For  myself  I  do  not  believe  that  she  had  anything  to  do  with 
the  selection  of  the  song,  which  was  probably  left  to  the  leader  of 
her  household  band  of  musicians  (like  the  music  for  which  Lorenzo 
calls  in  v.  I.  66);  but  if  she  selected  it,  this  was  done  before  the 
scene  opened,  and  before  she  declares  to  Bassanio  that  she  will 
never  "  teach  him  how  to  choose  right." 

I  suspect  that  it  would  never  have  occurred  to  the  commentators 
that  the  song  had  a  purpose  if  they  had  not  been  misled  by  the 
first  line  —  the  first  word  indeed  —  of  Bassanio's  speech  that  fol- 


222  Appendix 

lows :  "  So  may  the  outward  shows  be  least  themselves."  But  the 
So  connects  what  he  says,  not  with  any  suggestion  of  the  song,  but 
with  what  has  been  going  on  in  his  mind  while  he  was  studying  the 
caskets.  The  thought  that  appearances  are  deceitful  has  already 
occurred  to  him,  and  he  continues  the  train  of  reasoning  that  it 
starts.  It  is  this  that  leads  him  to  choose  the  meagre  lead  that 
rather  threatens  than  promises  aught  —  that  bids  him  "give  and 
hazard  all  he  hath  "  rather  than  seek  what  many  men  desire,  or 
hope  to  get  what  he  may  deserve.  This  inscription  on  the  leaden 
casket  is  Shakespeare's  own,  not  taken,  like  the  others,  from  the 
old  stories;  and  he  doubtless  intended  that  we  should  recognize 
the  unselfishness  of  genuine  love  at  which  it  hints  as  the  clue  to  the 
right  choice. 

THE  PRINCES  OF  MOROCCO  AND  OF  ARRAGON.  —  The  subordi- 
nate characters  in  the  plays  deserve  more  study  than  they  ordinarily 
get.  Charles  Cowden-Clarke,  in  his  Shakespeare  Characters,  takes 
up,  as  the  title-page,  states,  "  chiefly  those  subordinate";  but  the 
commentators  generally  have  not  much  to  say  about  them.  In  the 
present  play,  for  instance,  these  two  princes  have  seldom  been 
noticed,  and  the  few  slight  criticisms  upon  them  seem  to  me  very 
unsatisfactory.  Henry  Morley  takes  Morocco  to  represent  "  the 
love  of  money  and  what  money  can  buy,"  while  Arragon  represents 
"the  pride  of  rank."  The  latter  statement  is  obviously  true,  but 
the  former  is  absolutely  without  support  in  the  text.  Koenig  thinks 
that  "  what  Morocco  calls  love  is  nothing  but  a  desire  to  possess 
Portia  for  her  wealth  and  her  fair  reputation,  —  a  purely  superficial 
affection,  not  an  honest  love  down  deep  in  the  heart";  and  "Por- 
tia's assurance  that  he  stood  as  fair  as  any  other  of  her  suitors  con- 
veys to  us,  who  know  what  her  feelings  towards  those  others  are,  a 
keen  satire,  which  becomes  extremely  comic  when  Morocco  thanks 
her  for  it."  Now,  to  me  nothing  can  be  clearer  than  that  Morocco 
has  an  honest  love  for  Portia,  while  Arragon  has  not.  We  might 
expect  that,  in  a  pair  of  scenes  necessarily  so  much  alike  as  these  in 
which  the  two  princes  try  their  luck  with  the  caskets,  the  dramatist 


Appendix  223 

would  endeavour  to  give  variety  in  this  way,  which  is  the  only  one 
natural  or  possible;  and  we  might  expect,  also,  that  he  would  make 
Portia  recognize  the  difference  in  the  two  suitors,  and  that  this 
would  inevitably  affect  her  treatment  of  them.  This  is  precisely 
what  we  find  on  a  careful  reading  of  the  scenes.  Morocco  is  per- 
mitted to  appear  twice,  —  a  significant  fact  in  itself.  In  the  first 
scene  he  apparently  meets  Portia  for  the  first  time,  and,  although 
he  has  come  to  Belmont  as  a  mere  adventurer  for  the  golden  fleece, 
he  falls  in  love  with  the  lady  at  sight,  and  avows  it  at  once.  She 
cannot  help  pitying  him,  and  tells  him,  with  gentle  courtesy,  that 
she  is  not  free  to  choose  a  husband,  but  that,  if  she  were,  he  would 
stand  as  fair  a  chance  as  any  suitor  who  has  yet  come  to  try  the 
fortune  of  the  caskets.  He  is  the  only  one  of  these  who  has  really 
loved  her.  Bassanio  has  not  come,  and  she  has  no  reason  to  expect 
him.  There  is  no  "  satire  "  in  what  she  says,  and  nothing  "  comic  " 
in  Morocco's  reply.  With  the  intuition  of  a  lover,  he  detects  the 
sympathetic  touch  in  her  words,  and  thanks  her  for  it.  There  is  a 
lover's  delicacy  in  the  expression  of  his  gratitude :  "  even  for  that 
I  thank  you."  It  is  not  much  in  the  way  of  encouragement,  but,  in 
his  "  poverty  of  grace,"  he  thankfully  takes  what  he  can  get,  and 
only  very  timidly  intimates  his  hope  for  more  hereafter.  He  begs 
that  he  may  go  to  his  trial  at  once,  though,  blind  Fortune  being 
the  arbiter,  he  may  miss  the  prize  "  and  die  with  grieving."  Portia 
tells  him  that  he  must  take  his  chance,  reminding  him  that  if  he 
chooses  wrong  he  can  court  no  other  lady.  "  Nor  will  not !  "  is 
the  prompt  and  expressive  response.  If  he  fails,  he  will  be  the 
"  cursed'st  among  men,"  with  no  heart  for  further  wooing.  When 
he  stands  before  the  caskets,  he  hastily  rejects  the  lead,  because  it 
"  threatens,"  but  tarries  long  in  consideration  of  the  silver,  which 
promises  "  as  much  as  he  deserves."  His  own  desert,  he  thinks, 
"may  not  extend -so  far  as  to  the  lady."  There  spoke  the  true 
lover;  but,  like  a  true  lover,  he  takes  heart  again,  and  dares  to 
hope  he  may  deserve  her.  His  birth  and  breeding  and  fortune 
equal  hers. "  but  more  than  these"  he  adds,  "  in  love  I  do  deserve," 


224  Appendix 

—  and  that  is  no  utterance  of  "  a  purely  superficial  affection,"  as 
the  German  critic  calls  it.  But  before  making  his  choice  he  will 
look  at  the  "  saying  graved  in  gold."  "  What  many  men  desire ! 
Why,  that's  the  lady !  "  And  to  the  end  of  the  speech  the  one 
theme  is  "  the  lady."  Alas !  it  is  his  exalted  idea  of  her  that  leads 
to  the  fatal  decision.  It  were  damnation  to  imagine  her  heavenly 
picture  shut  up  in  the  base  lead;  nor  can  she,  who  is  ten  times 
undervalued  to  tried  gold,  be  immured  in  the  inferior  silver.  Noth- 
ing worse  than  gold  can  be  the  setting  of  so  rich  a  gem;  the 
"  angel "  (whereon  he  puns  in  pretty  loverlike  fashion)  can  repose 
only  in  a  golden  bed.  But  it  is  a  carrion  skull,  not  fair  Portia's 
counterfeit,  that  he  finds  in  the  deluding  gold.  He  must  depart, 
but  he  has  too  grieved  a  heart  to  take  a  tedious  leave.  "A 
gentle  riddance,"  is  the  kindly  comment  of  the  lady  when  he  is 
gone. 

Enter  now  the  Prince  of  Arragon,  who  loves  himself  better  than 
he  loves  the  lady, — whose  fortune,  nevertheless,  he  fain  would 
have.  He  goes  to  the  trial  in  business-like  fashion,-  first  making 
sure  that  the  conditions  are  clearly  understood.  The  gold  is  not 
for  him,  because  he  scorns  to  choose  what  many  men  desire;  but 
the  silver  appeals  to  his  self-sufficiency.  He  will  "  assume  desert," 
and  demands  the  key  of  the  casket.  "  Too  long  a  pause  for  that 
which  you  find  there,"  Portia  cannot  help  saying,  disgusted  as  she 
is  with  the  arrogant  fool.  Capell  made  this  speech  an  aside,  because, 
if  addressed  to  Arragon,  it  has  "  the  sound  of  twitting  him,"  which 
he  thinks  is  not  quite  in  character.  It  may  possibly  be  an  aside, 
but  it  is  quite  in  keeping  with  what  she  says  to  him  afterwards.  He 
considers  himself  ill-treated.  When  he  finds  the  portrait  of  the 
blinking  idiot,  he  says :  — 

"  How  much  unlike  art  thou  to  Portia ! 
How  much  unlike  my  hopes  and  my  deservings  f 
4  Who  chooseth  me  shall  have  as  much  as  he  deserves.' 
Did  /  deserve  no  more  than  a  fool's  head  ? 
Is  that  my  prize  ?    Are  my  deserts  no  greater  ?  " 


Appendix  225 

Still  "  my  deserts,"  as  throughout  his  soliloquy  before  the  caskets, 
and  not  a  word  about  "  the  lady,"  who  was  the  entire  burden  of 
Morocco's  musings.  What  could  be  more  cutting  than  Portia's 
quiet  reply  ?  — 

"  To  offend  and  judge  are  distinct  offices, 
And  of  opposed  natures." 

His  offence  is  in  having  made  a  fool  of  himself;  and,  being  a 
fool,  he  cannot  see  himself  as  others  see  him.  Portia  intimates 
pretty  plainly  what  'her  judgment  would  be;  and,  in  his  impotent 
wrath  at  the  issue  of  his  mercenary  wooing,  he  unwittingly  passes  a 
similar  sentence  upon  himself  in  his  next  speech :  — 

"  With  one  fool's  head  I  came  to  woo, 
But  I  go  away  with  two." 

How  much  unlike  the  parting  of  the  heart -stricken  if  not  heart- 
broken M^iocco  i  "Thus  hath  the  candle  singed  the  moth!  "  is 
Portia's  contemptuous  comment  to  Nerissa  after  the  baffled  fortune- 
hunter  has  gone. 

GRATIANO  AND  NERISSA.  —  The  loves  of  Gratiano  and  Nerissa 
are  kept  duly  subordinate  to  those  of  Bassanio  and  Portia.  Shake- 
speare's fine  discrimination  is  apparent  even  in  the  minutest  details 
of  the  delineation  of  the  two  couples.  In  the  trial  scene,  for  in- 
stance, the  marked  difference  in  speeches  that  at  first  sight  seem 
almost  identical  may  be  noted :  — 

44  Bassanio.  Antonio,  I  am  married  to  a  wife 
Which  is  as  dear  to  me  as  life  itself; 
But  life  itself,  my  wife,  and  all  the  world, 
Are  not  with  me  esteem'd  above  thy  life. 
1  would  lose  all,  ay,  sacrifice  them  all 
Here  to  this  devil,  to  deliver  you. 

Portia.  Your  wife  would  give  you  little  thanks  for  that, 
If  she  were  by  to  hear  you  make  the  offer. 

Gratiano.   1  have  a  wife,  whom,  I  protest,  I  love ; 
I  would  she  were  in  heaven,  so  she  could 
Entreat  some  power  to  change  this  currish  Jew. 

MER.   OF   YEN.- —  15 


226  Appendix 

Nerissa.  Tis  well  you  offer  it  behind  her  back ; 
The  wish  would  make  else  an  unquiet  house." 

If  this  dialogue  were  shown  to  a  person  wholly  unacquainted  with 
the  rest  of  the  play,  and  he  were  asked  which  pair  were  the  more 
refined  in  character,  and  probably  the  higher  in  the  social  scale, 
would  he  have  any  difficulty  in  answering  the  question? 

Nerissa,  as  Hunter  remarks  (New  Illustrations  of  Shakespeare, 
1845)  is  "not  a  waiting-maid,  in  the  modern  sense  of  the  term," 
but  "a  young  lady,"  such  persons  being  often  found  in  that  day 
"  attending  on  ladiec  of  superior  distinction  and  fortune."  She 
belongs  to  the  same  class  as  Lucetta  in  7^he  Two  Gentlemen  of 
Verona,  Ursula  and  Margaret  in  Mttch  Ado,  Maria  in  Twelfth. 
Night,  and  Helena  in  All's  Well 

Gratiano  is  a  gentleman,  like  Salanio  and  Salarino,  but  not  the 
equal  of  Bassanio  in  rank  and  social  standing.  He  goes  to  Belmont 
with  Bassanio  as  a  companion  or  attendant,  apparently  holding  for 
the  time  being  somewhat  the  same  position  with  reference  to  his 
friend  as  Nerissa  does  to  Portia.  Bassanio,  as  we  see  (ii.  2. 182,  fol.), 
thinks  it  necessary  to  give  him  some  serious  counsel  as  to  his  be- 
haviour while  at  Belmont. 

I  may  add  what  Mrs.  Jameson  says  of  the  pair :  "  Nerissa  is  a 
clever,  confidential  waiting-woman,  who  has  caught  a  little  of  her 
lady's  elegance  and  romance;  she  affects  to  be  lively  and  senten- 
tious, falls  in  love,  and  makes  her  favour  conditional  on  the  fortune 
of  the  caskets,  and  in  short,  mimics  her  mistress  with  good  empha- 
sis and  discretion.  Nerissa  and  the  gay,  talkative  Gratiano  are  as 
well  matched  as  the  incomparable  Portia  and  her  magnificent  and 
captivating  lover." 

JESSICA. — The  pretty  daughter  of  the  Jew  is  charming  in  her 
way,  and  we  do  not  wonder  that  Lorenzo,  who  is  a  romantic  young 
fellow,  falls  in  love  with  her;  but  she  has  little  filial  feeling.  Her 
cool  robbery  of  her  father  —  it  is  cool,  as  we  see  from  her  jesting 
about  it  (ii.  6.  49)  while  committing  it  —  proves  that  she  is  lacking 


Appendix  227 

in  moral  sense  no  less  than  in  natural  affection.  But  what  has 
Shylock  done  to  make  the  girl  love  him  or  to  cultivate  her  moral 
perceptions?  What  has  she  seen  in  him  but  miserly  greed,  un- 
feeling exaction,  virtual  robbery  of  the  unfortunate;  and  in  his 
treatment  of  his  family  a  niggardly  parsimony  that  proved  his  love 
of  gold  to  be  paramount  to  his  affection  for  his  own  flesh  and  blood? 
Brought  up  under  such  influences  and  with  such  surroundings,  is  it 
strange  that  she  feels  no  scruple  in  plundering  the  father  who  has 
cheated  her  young  life  out  of  its  dues  of  paternal  love,  education, 
and  kindness  —  even  out  of  its  fair  share  of  the  good  things  of  a 
merely  material  sort  to  which  the  child  of  a  rich  man  is  entitled  ? 
As  his  only  heir  she  feels  that  she  may  help  herself  to  what  honestly 
belongs  to  her,  and  take  by  stealth  the  dowry  she  can  secure  in  no 
other  way.  If  we  cannot  quite  justify  her  conduct,  we  are,  never- 
theless, compelled  to  recommend  her  to  mercy.  This,  we  may  be 
sure,  was  the  poet's  unspoken  verdict  in  the  case. 

Some  critics  have  been  severe  upon  her  for  eloping  with  Lorenzo, 
and  "leaving  her  poor  old  father"  to  his  solitary  existence;  for  it 
is  evident  that  Leah  died  long  ago.  But,  as  Jessica  says,  "  Our 
house  is  hell,"  where  even  the  foolery  of  that  merry  devil,  Launce- 
lot,  will  be  seriously  missed  when  he  goes  to  a  new  master.  And 
Shylock  is  not  the  aged  man  he  is  often  represented  on  the  stage. 
It  is  doubtful  whether  we  should  regard  him  as  more  than  fifty. 
According  to  Hazlitt,  Kean  did  not  make  him  "  the  decrepit  old 
man,  bent  with  age,"  that  had  formerly  been  the  theatrical  Jew.  He 
was,  we  may  believe,  still  strong  in  body  as  in  mind,  and  well  able  to 
take  care  of  himself  after  his  daughter  has  gone.  In  his  reproaches 
of  her  he  says  nothing  of  his  dependence  upon  her  filial  attentions 
and  services. 


THE  LAW  IN  THE  TRIAL  SCENE 

According  to  pne  of  the  early  traditions  concerning  Shakespeare, 
he  was  an  attorney's  clerk  for  a  time  before  he  left  Stratford  for 


228  Appendix 

London ;  and  the  many  references,  literal  and  figurative,  in  his 
works  to  technicalities  of  the  law,  especially  such  as  are  not  likely 
to  become  known  to  non-professional  people,  have  led  Lord  Camp- 
bell and  other  specialists  to  believe  that  he  must  have  studied  law 
somewhat  thoroughly ;  but  Judge  Allen,  of  the  Supreme  Judicial 
Court  of  Massachusetts,  in  his  recent  Notes  on  the  Bacon- Shakespeare 
Question  (1900),  has  shown  that  such  legal  allusions  are  equally 
common  in  other  dramatists  of  the  time,  and  that  Shakespeare, 
instead  of  being  uniformly  accurate  in  these  matters,  as  Lord 
Campbell  and  others  have  assumed,  is  often  guilty  of  mistakes 
which  a  lawyer  or  student  of  law  would  never  make.  This  may 
be  regarded  as  the  final  word  on  the  question  of  the  supposed  legal 
attainments  of  the  dramatist. 

Much  has  been  written  on  the  law  in  the  present  play,  some  taking 
the  ground  that  it  favours  the  theory  of  Lord  Campbell,  while  others 
say  it  proves  that  the  play  could  not  have  been  written  by  one  ac- 
quainted with  law.  For  an  interesting  summary  of  the  discussion, 
see  Furness's  "  New  Variorum  "  edition  of  the  play,  pp.  403-420, 
besides  scattered  notes  on  the  subject  elsewhere  in  the  volume. 
Only  one  or  two  points  can  be  referred  to  here. 

The  mention  of  a  "single  bond"  in  i.  3.  141  has  been  cited  in 
support  of  both  sides  of  the  controversy.  Lord  Campbell  says: 
"  This  bond  to  Shylock  is  prepared  and  talked  about  according  to 
all  the  forms  observed  in  an  English  attorney's  office.  The  dis- 
tinction between  a  « single  bond  '  and  a  '  bond  with  a  condition '  is 
clearly  referred  to."  But  Shylock's  bond  is  obviously  a  bond  with  a 
condition,  and  therefore  is  not  "  single  "  in  the  legal  sense.  For 
myself,  I  believe  (see  note  on  the  passage)  that  it  means  "indi- 
vidual bond,  or  one  without  sureties."  The  term  is  used  in  its 
popular  sense,  not  in  a  technical  one.  It  would  perhaps  be  refining 
overmuch  to  suppose  that  Shylock  craftily  employs  it  in  the  latter 
sense  because  he  wants  to  make  the  "  condition  "  appear  like  none 
at  all,  —  merely  the  "merry  sport"  he  calls  it;  as  if  he  had  said, 
"  Give  me  your  bond  without  any  condition,  —  at  least  none  worthy 


Appendix  229 

of  the  name  or  to  be  legally  enforced,  —  though  for  the  joke  of  the 
thing  we  will  say  that  I  am  to  have  a  pound  of  your  flesh  if  you  fail 
to  pay  up  at  the  appointed  time."  I  have  sometimes  been  inclined 
to  explain  the  passage  in  that  way.  Observe  that,  a  moment  later, 
Shy  lock  refers  to  the  "  condition  "  as  only  a  nominal  one : 

"  If  he  should  break  his  day,  what  should  I  gain 
By  the  exaction  of  the  forfeiture  ?  " 

He  implies  that  he  has  no  intention  of  exacting  it,  so  the  bond  is 
virtually  "  single,"  or  to  be  treated  as  such. 

As  to  the  obviously  "  bad  law  "  in  the  trial  scene,  which  some 
critics  ascribe  to  Shakespeare's  ignorance  of  law,  we  must  bear  in 
mind  that  he  took  it  from  the  familiar  story  on  which  the  play  was 
partly  founded,  and  that  it  was  too  effective  on  the  stage  to  be 
omitted.  But  it  is  a  significant  fact  —  to  me,  at  least,  for  I  believe 
that  no  commentator  or  critic  has  referred  to  it  —  that  the  dramatist, 
after  using  this  "  bad  law  "  from  the  old  tale,  makes  Portia  go  on 

to  say : 

"  Tarry,  Jew ; 

The  law  hath  yet  another  hold  on  you,"  — 

namely,  on  account  of  his  having  sought  the  life  of  Antonio.  Note 
at  what  length  this  is  dwelt  upon,  and  how  much  stress  Portia  lays 
upon  it.  Note  also  that  this  is  not  in  the  various  forms  of  the  old 
story,  but  is  Shakespeare's  own  addition  thereto.  I  have  no  doubt 
that  he  added  it  solely  because  he  knew  that  the  original  "  law  "  was 
"  bad,"  and  was  not  willing  to  rest  the  case  upon  it,  as  an  inferior 
dramatist  might  not  improbably  have  done.  He  kept  the  "  bad  law  " 
for  stage  effect,  but  added  the  "  good  law  "  to  satisfy  his  conscience 
or  his  sense  of  justice. 


THE  TIME-ANALYSIS  OF  THE  PLAY 

In   his  paper  "On  the  Times  or  Durations  of  the  Action  of 
Shakspere's    Plays'*    (Transactions    of  New    Shakspert    Society^ 


230  Appendix 

1877-1879),    Mr.    P.   A.   Daniel    sums    up    the   "  time  -analysis  *• 
thus :  — 

"Time:  eight  days  represented  on  the  stage;  with  intervals* 
Total  time :  a  period  of  rather  more  than  three  months. 

Day  i.   Act  I. 

Interval —  say  a  week.1 
"     2.  Act  II.  sc.  i.-vii. 

Interval  —  one  day.2 
"     3.   Act  II.  sc.  viii.  and  ix. 

Interval — bringing  the  time  to  within  a  fortnight  of 

the  maturity  of  the  bond. 
«    4.   Act  III.  sc.  i. 

Interval — rather  more  than  a  fortnight.8 
"     5.   Act  III.  sc.  ii.-iv. 
"     6.   Act  III.  sc.  v.,  Act  IV. 
"    7  and  8.  Act  V."4 

LIST  OF  CHARACTERS  IN  THE  PLAY 

In  this  list  the  numbers  in  parentheses  indicate  the  lines  the 
characters  have  in  each  scene. 

1  In  ii.  2,  we  find  Launcelot  lamenting  his  hard  life  in  Shylock's  ser- 
vice ;  and  later  he  becomes  the  servant  of  Bassanio.  Meanwhile  Bas- 
sanio  has  engaged  his  ship,  and  is  waiting  for  a  fair  wind  ;  and  Lorenzo 
has  been  courting  Jessica.  Note  also  what  Jessica  says  in  iii.  2.  279  fol. 
All  this  supposes  a  lapse  of  time  —  say  a  week  —  since  the  signing  of  the 
bond.  2  For  Bassanio's  journey  to  Belmont,  etc. 

8  In  iii.  i,  Shylock  says  to  Tubal:  "  Go,  Tubal,  fee  me  an  officer;  be- 
speak him  a  fortnight  before."  This  indicates  an  interval,  between  this 
and  the  preceding  scenes,  of  sufficient  length  to  bring  the  three-months 
bond  to  within  a  fortnight  of  its  maturity.  „ 

4  After  the  trial  Bassanio  and  Antonio  propose  to  fly  towards  Belmont 
early  next  morning.  Portia  and  Nerissa  start  for  home  that  night,  and 
arrive  on  the  next  night  (Day  7)  before  their  husbands.  Act  V.  begins 
at  a  late  hour  that  night,  and  ends  two  hours  before  day  (Day  8) . 


Appendix  23 1 

Duke  of  Venice  :  iv.  I  (57).     Whole  number,  57. 

Prince  of  Morocco  :  ii.  I  (32),  7  (71).     Whole  number,  103. 

Prince  of  Arragon  :  ii.  9  (66).     Whole  number,  66. 

Antonio:    i.  I  (46),  3  (39);   ii.  6  (6);   iii.  3  (19);   iv.  I  (66);  v.  I 

(12).     Whole  number,  188. 
Bassanio:    i.  I  (51),  3  (16);   ii.  2  (38);  iii.  2(144);  iv.  I  (50)? 

v.  i  (42).     Whole  number,  341. 
Salanio  :  i.  I  (ii);  ii.  4  (3),  8  (21);  iii.  I  (24).     Whole  number, 

59- 
Salarino:    i.   I  (41);  ii.  4  (3),  6  (5),  8  (34);  iii.  I  (22),  3(4). 

Whole  number,  109. 
Gratiano :  i.  I  (34) ;  ii.  2  (18),  4  (3),  6  (20) ;  iii.  2  (31) ;  iv.  I  (33), 

2  (5);  v-  1  (34)«     Whole  number,  178. 
Lorenzo:    i.  I  (6);   ii.  4  (27),  6  (21);  iii.  2  (5),  4(12),  5  (34); 

v.  I  (76).     Whole  number,  181. 
Shylock:   i.  3(134);  "•  5  (39);  Hi-  i  (72),  3  06);  iv.  I  (103). 

Whole  number,  364. 
Tubal :  iii.  I  (16).     Whole  number,  16. 
Launcelot:    ii.  2  (120),  3  (5),  4  (6),  5  (15);  iii.  5  (35);  v.  I  (7). 

Whole  number,  188. 

Old  Gobbo  :  ii.  2  (41).     Whole  number,  41. 
Salerio  :   iii.  2(20);  iv.  i  (4).     Whole  number,  24. 
Leonardo  :  ii.  2  (2).     Whole  number,  2. 
Balthazar  :  iii.  4  (i).     Whole  number,  i. 
Stephano  :  v.  i'(8).     Whole  number,  8. 
Servant:  i.  2  (5);  ii.  9  (n);  iii.  i  (2).    Whole  number,  18. 
Musician  :  iii.  2  (9).     Whole  number,  9. 
Portia:   i.  2  (96);   ii.  I  (17),  7  (9),  9  (20);  iii.  2  (118),  4  (71); 

iv.  i  (138),  2  (12);  v.  i  (108).     Whole  number,  589. 
Nerissa:   i.  2(46);  ii.  9(6);  iii.  2(5),  4(2);  iv.  I  (22),  2  (4); 

v.  i  (25).     Whole  number,  no. 
Jessica  :  ii.  3  (16),  5  (4),  6  (18) ;  iii.  2  (7),  4  (i),  5  (29) ;  v.  I  (14). 

Whole  number,  89. 
«AU  "  .•  iii.  2  (i).     Whole  number,  I. 


23  2  Appendix 

In  the  above  enumeration,  parts  of  lines  are  counted  as  whole 
lines,  making  the  total  in  the  play  greater  than  it  is.  The  actual 
number  of  lines  in  each  scene  (Globe  edition  numbering)  is  as 
follows:  i.  I  (186),  2(147),  3  O^S);  »•  i  (46),  2  (215),  3  (21), 
4(40),  5  (57).  6(68),  7  (79),  8(53),  9(101);  in.  i  (136),  2(330), 
3  (36),  4  (84),  5  (96);  iv.  i  (458),  2  (19);  v.  i  (307).  Whole 
number  in  the  play,  2662. 


INDEX   OF  WORDS  AND   PHRASES 
EXPLAINED 


a'  (=he),  168 

beholding     (=beholden), 

complexion  (quadrisylla- 

a many,  193 

163 

ble),  165 

abide  (=bear),  195 

beshrew,  175,  182 

compromised,  162 

accomplished,  191 

best  conditioned  and  un- 

conceit, 154,  190 

achieve,  186 

wearied,  1  88 

condition,  160 

address,  178 

bestow,  171 

conditioned,  188 

advice,  200 

best-regarded,  165 

confiscate  (participle),  199 

advised,  155,  166 

bid  forth,  172 

confound,  188 

advisedly,  206 

Black-Monday,  173 

confusions,  168 

afeard,  175 

blest  or  cursed'st,  167 

constant,  187 

agitation     (=  cogitation)  , 

bonnet,  159 

contain,  205 

192 

bottom,  152 

contemplation      (metre)  , 

alablaster,  154 

brave,  192 

191 

alas  the  while!  166 

break  his  day,  164 

continent,  185 

Alcides,  166,  184 

break  up  (=break  open), 

contrive  (=ploO,  200 

aleven,  171 

172 

conveniency,  196 

alien  (trisyllable),  200 

breed    of    barren    metal, 

convenient,  191 

all  my  whole,  192 

163 

conveniently,  178 

an  (=if),  158 

Brutus'  Portia,  156 

cope,  200 

and  (=an),  158 

burial,  152 

could  not  do  withal,  192 

and  so  following,  161 

by  (=about),  158,  178 

counterfeit     (=  portrait), 

Andrew,  152 

185 

angel  (coin),  176 

can,  160 

county  (=count),  158 

appropriation,  158 
approve  (=prove),  183 

carrion  (in  contempt),  195 
carrion  death,  177 

courtesy,  152,  205 
cousin,  191 

argosy,  151 

cater-cousin,  170 

cover,  178,  193 

as  (omitted),  189 

cerecloth,  176 

Cressida,  201 

as  who  should  say,  154 

ceremony,  206 

crisped,  184 

aspect  (accent),  152,  165 

charge     upon     interroga- 

current, 195 

at  full,  206 

tories,  206 

curtsy,  152 

attempt  (=tempt),  200 

Charybdis,  192 

attended,  203 

cheer,  188,  193 

danger,  197 

avail  (avale\  152 

cherubin,  202 

Daniel  come  to  judgment, 

aweary,  157 

childhood  proof,  156 

198 

Chus,  188 

Dardanian  wives,  183 

balance  (plural),  198 

circumstance,  156 

dear  (adverb),  189 

Balthazar,  191 

civil  doctor,  206 

deny,  188,  190,  191 

Barrabas,  199 

close  (=secret),  175 

depart  (=part),  177 

bate,  190 

commandement,  200 

description    (quadrisylla 

be  (=are),  161,  175,  199 

commends  (noun),  179 

ble),  188 

be  friends  with,  164 

commodity,  157,  190 

desire  you  of  pardon,  909 

beefs,  165 

companion     (contemptu- 

determine, 196 

beest,  175 

ous),  190 

Dido,  201 

233 

234         Index  of  Words  and  Phrases 


Difference  of,  172 
disable,  175 

gear,  155,  171 
Gentile  (play  upon),  175 

incision  for  your  love,  165 
Indian  beauty,  185 

discharge,  188,  198 

ginger,  180 

insculped,  176 

discretion,  193 

glister,  177 

interest,  161 

dish  of  doves,  31,  170 

Gobbo,  168 

inter'gatories,  206 

distinct  (accent),  179 

go  give,  197 

intermission  (metre),  186 

do  we  so,  178 

go  hard,  181 

issuing,  187 

doit,  164 

go  to,  163 

doth,  187 

SD  we  in,  202 

Jacks,  192 

doublet,  159 

od  bless  the  mark!  167 

Jacob's  staff,  173 

ducat,  160 

God  sort  all  !  205 

Janus,  152 

dull-eyed,  190 

God's  sonties,  168 

jaundice,  154 

dwell  (=contmue),  164 

good  (commercial),  160 

Jewess,  173 

good  sweet,  193 

judgment,  196 

eanling,  162 

Goodwins,  180 

jump,  178 

Endymion,  204 

gramercy,  170 

enow,  193 

gratify,  200 

keep  (=dwell),  190 

envious,  188 

gree,  169 

knap,  180 

envy,  188,  194,  196 

green-eyed  jealousy,  185 

knave,  165 

Erebus,  203 

guard  (=trim),  170 

estate,  178,  187 

gudgeon,  155 

leave  (=part  with),  205 

exceeding  (adverb),  153 

guiled,  184 

level  at,  158 

excess,  162 

liberal,  171 

exchange,  174 

had  better,  158 

Lichas,  166 

exclaim  on,  186 

had  rather  to,  T58 

light  (play  upon),  184,  205 

excrement,  184 

hair  (dissyllable),  188 

like  (=likelv),i76 

exhibit,  171 

hairs,  185 

likely,  180 

hangman,  196 

line  of  life,  170 

fair  (play  upon?)  166 

hard  food  for  Midas,  185 

liver,  154,  184 

faithless,  172 

hear  thee,  171 

living,  186,  206 

fall  ^transitive),  163 

heels  (play  upon),  167 

lodged,  195 

fancy  (=love),  183 
father,  169 
fear  (causative),  165 

high-day,  180 
high-gravel-blind,  168 
his  (=its),  183,  202 

loose,  194 
lord  worshipped  might  he 
be!  169 

fear  (=fearfor),  183,  192 

hit,  187 

love  (=lover),  199 

fearful,  165 

holy  crosses,  202 

lover,  190 

fill  up  (=fulfil),  197 

hood,  175 

fill-horse,  169 

hose  (round),  159 

magnificoes,  188 

find  forth,  156 
fire  (dissyllable),  179 
flight  (of  arrow),  155 

hour  (dissyllable),  179 
humility,  180 
husbandry,  191 

main,  195 
make  moan,  155,  190 
making  question,  156 

follow  (=insist  upon),  198 

Hyrcanian,  175 

manage  (noun),  191 

fond,  178,  189 

mannerly  (adverb),  180 

fool  (adjective),  155,  178 

I  (=me),  189 

mantle  (verb),  154 

fool-gudgeon,  155 

I  were  best,  177,  205 

many  a  time  and  oft,  163 

for  (=because),  161 

I  wis,  179 

marry,  168 

for  my  love,  165 
forfeit,  189 

if  that,  175,  187 
impeach   the   freedom  of 

martlet,  178 
master  (as  title),  168 

forth,  156,  172,  173 

the  state,  188 

masters  of  passion,  195 

fraught,  177 

imposition,  159,  191 

match,  1  80 

from  (=away  from),  186 

in  (=go  in),  170 

matched,  181 

in  (=into),  202 

may,  160 

gaberdine,  163 

in  all  sense,  205 

me  (expletive),  163,  169 

gaged,  155 

in  supposition,  160 

Medea,  202 

gaping  pig,  195 

in  the  weather,  178 

melancholy  bait,  155 

garnished,  193 

incarnation,  168 

mere,  187 

Index  of  Words  and  Phrases         235 


methought,  162 

parts,  196 

Rialto,  32,  160 

Midas,  185 

passion,  177,  195 

richly  left,  156 

mincing,  192 

patch,  173 

ripe,  162 

mind  of  love,  178 

patine,  202 

riping,  178 

misbeliever,  163 

pawned,  193 

road,  206 

miscarried,  206 

peep  through  their  eyes, 

royal  merchant,  195 

misery  (accent),  199 

i52 

ruin  (=refuse),  179 

moe,  155 

peize,  182 

rule,  197 

moiety,  195 

persuaded  with,  188 

more  elder,  198 

pied,  162 

Sabaoth  (=Sabbath),  195 

music  (=musicians),  202 

pilled,  163 

Salerio,  186 

muttons,  165 

play  the  fool,  153 

sand-blind,  168 

mutual,  203 

please  (impersonal),  161, 

say  by,  158 

myself  (subject),  166 

164 

scant  (verb),  166 

pleasure  (verb),  160 

scape,  188 

narrow  seas,  177 

poesy,  205 

scarfed  bark,  174 

naughty,  182,  189 

port,  155,  188 

scrubbed,  205 

Nazarite,  161 

possess,  162,  195,  200 

Scylla,  192 

needs,  172,  190 

posy,  205 

sealed  under  for  another, 

Nestor,  153 

prefer,  170 

J59 

nice,  166 

presence,  183 

season,  198,  204 

no  impediment  to  let  him 

presently,  157 

seasoned,  183 

lack,  197 
nor     (double     negative), 

prest,  156 
prevent,  153 

self  (adjective),  156 
sensible,  178,  179 

i57»  l67 

prize  (=contest),  186 

shall  (=will),  155,  186 

note,  1  86 

producing    holy   witness, 

should,  155,  159,  188 

nothing  undervalued,  156 

I63 

show  (=appear),  198 

proof,  156 

shows  (=  represents),  198 

obdurate  (accent),  194 

proper,  158 

shrewd,  187 

obliged,  174 

provided  of,  172 

Sibylla,  159 

obscure  (accent),  176 

publican,  161 

simple,  183 

occasion,  155 

pursue  (accent),  199 

single  bond,  164 

ocean  (trisyllable),  151 

Pythagoras,  196 

sisters  three,  169 

o'erlooked,  182 
of  (=about).  162,  171 

quaint,  171,  192 

skipping  spirit,  171 
slubber,  177 

of  (=by,  with),  172 
of  (=for),  173 
of  force,  200 

qualify,  194 
quality  of  mercy,  197 
quarrelling  with  occasion, 

smug,  1  80 
so  ...  as,  159 
so  (=if  ),  186 

of  (omitted),  155 

J93. 

so  (omitted),  192 

office  of  discovery,  175 

question,  195 

so  (=so  be  it),  165 

old  (intensive),  200 

quicken     his      embraced 

so  (=well),  181 

on  't,  175,  205 

heaviness,  178 

sola,  202 

on  your  charge,  199 
opinion   (quadrisyllable), 

rain  thy  joy,  185 

some  (=about),  172 
something  (adverb),  155 

?54,  193      - 
opinion  of  wisdom,  154 

rath,  158 
rather,  158 

sometime,  156 
sometimes,  156 

Orpheus,  203 

raw,  192 

sonties,  168 

ostent,  171,  178 

reason  (=converse),  177 

sooth,  151 

other  (plural),  152 

regreet,  179 

soothsayer,  151 

overpeer,  152 

remorse,  194 

Sophy,  166 

over-  weathered,  174 

reproach  (play  upon),  173 

sort  (=dispose),  205 

respect,  153,  103 

sort  (noun),  159 

pageant,  151 
pain  (=pains),  171 

respect  upon,  153 
respective,  205 

soul  (play  upon),  196 
speak  me  fair,  199 

parcel,  159 
part  (=depart),  177 

rest  (set  up  one's),  169 
rest  you  fair,  162 

sped,  179 
spet,  163 

2j6         Index  of  Words  and  Phrases 


spirit  (monosyllable),  171 

tricksy,  193 

well  to  live,  168 

spoke  (=spoken),  186 
spoke  us  of,  171 

Tripolis,  160 
Troilus,  201 

what  (of  impatience),  i7j 
what  (=what  a),  141 

squander,  161 

truth  (=honesty),  198 

where  (=whereas),  156 

starve,  197 

tucket,  204 

which  (omitted),  157 

state,  187 

turquoise,  182 

which  (the),  160,  199 

stead,  1  60 

which  (=who),  175,  199, 

steal  your  thoughts,  165 

uncapable,  194 

204 

Stephano  (accent),  202 

underta'en,  172 

whiles,  160 

sterve,  197 

undertook,  172 

who  (omitted),  129,  156 

still,  152,  155,  183,  199 

undervalued,  156,  176 

who  (=which),  175 

studied  in  a  sad  ostent.  171 

unfurnished,  185 

who  (=whom),  157,  174 

substance  (  =amount)  ,  199 

unhandled  colts,  203 

who  (with  supplementary 

success,  187 

unpleasant'st,  187 

pronoun),  164 

suited,  159 

unthrift,  202 

why,  so.  181 

Sultan  Solyman,  166 

unthrifty,  165 

wi  ful  stillness,  154 

sum  of  nothing,  186 

untread  again,  174 

will,  173 

swan-like  end,  183 

upon  more  advice,  200 

will  (verb  omitted),  171, 

sweet,  193 

upon  my  power,  196 

.185 

swelling  port,  155 

upon    supposed   fairness, 

willow,  200 

swift  (adverb),  186 

184 

wit,  166 

upon  the  hip,  161,  199 

with  all  my  heart  Cplay 

table  (of  the  hand),  170 

urge,  206 

upon),  199 

teaches  (plural),  164 

usance,  161 

with  imagined  speed,  191 

temple  (=chapel),  167 

use,  199,  200 

within  his  danger,  197 

that  (with  conj.)>  i75>  187 

usury,  161 

within  the  eye  of  honour, 

the  which,  160 

.T55 

thee  (=thou),  171 

ail,  152 

wives  (=women),  183 

this  (=-all  this),  152 

antage,  186 

wolf  hanged,  196 

Thisbe,  201 

asty,  176 

would  (=wish),  162 

thorough  (=through),  144 

enture,  152 

wracked,  180 

thou  (of  servants),  191 

Tenus'  pigeons,  174 

writ,  172 

thought  (=love),  165 

ery  (adjective),  187 

wroth,  179 

throughfare,  176 

ia!  167 

wry-necked  fife,  173 

throughly,  176,  197 

inegar  aspect,  152 

thrift,  157 

irtue,  205 

yeanling,  162 

time  (=time  of  life),  155 

yet  (with  negative),  179 

to  (omitted),  176,  190,  197 

waft  (=  wafted),  201 

younger  (=younker),  174 

to-night  (=last  night),  172 
too-too,  174 

waste,  190 
wealth,  206 

yours  (dissyllable),  182 
yourself  (subject),  166 

towards  my  rest,  172 

weather,  178 

you  were  best,  177,  205 

trailed,  101 

weeping  philosopher,  158 

ywis,  179 

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